


About a Boy

by Pegacorn, thelovearesick



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Old Ass Eddie, Punk Waylon, Song fic, Teen Lover (?), alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 63,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6070032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegacorn/pseuds/Pegacorn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelovearesick/pseuds/thelovearesick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had never been fond of going to such places. The music, the crowd, the noise, and the excess were things he did not tolerate. A passing glimpse of a young man in the crowd catches his interest, and suddenly his beliefs may have begun to turn...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No, I can’t see you every night free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pegacorn: My goal was to use the translation and make it legible. But then I thought, this phrase would sound more natural in English if phrased differently. This led to me making some judgements about how I thought it would sound best. This may have led to some parts sounding kind of like my “style” though I was consciously trying to avoid that. 
> 
> I am also sure there are probably some descriptive and poetic language that was completely lost in translation but I have no way of knowing. I have no idea about grammar in the original work, but I typed this up using “proper” English grammar (my best attempt at least). You may use this as you see fit (change it, post it, discard it). Consider it a gift because I like the story so much and if you at all do want to continue with more translations I’m open to discussing the idea :) 
> 
> Claudy: I have no way of thanking this talented author for his help in translating this story, even more so as it is not a language that dominates. I am very happy to share this story with people who speak English, hoping that you will enjoy it. I'm very happy with the result. Thank you very much, Pegacorn! 
> 
> I get strange ideas. What else can I say to those who read my writing? This story was born one night when I would not stop listening to “About A Girl” and I imagined Waylon in full grunge attire dancing to the music, while Eddie looked on in stunned silence from a distance. I find it fun to include Eddie in this type of environment, so out of his element. 
> 
> And what better excuse to add another of my favorite characters who is often underrated: Frank Manera. I notice that the characters are completely out of their canon attitudes. Especially Waylon...and Frank xD I think we need more stories and fanart involving Frank! So without further ado, here's my strange story. Inspired entirely by About a Girl by Nirvana. Dedicated to Velia, who is my Kurt Cobain :3

“I do not want to go,” was the first thing out of his lips when he heard the invitation--before Frank Manera could even finish his sentence.

“Come on, Ed! It will be fun! I promise that if you get upset or uncomfortable, we can leave. At least make give it a try,” said Frank.

“No. I will not go,” said Eddie, turning to glare at his friend. Frank sighed. It was very difficult to convince Eddie when he decided to be stubborn.

“Where is your spirit of adventure?” Frank asked. “And why do I even need to convince you to go? You said you were going to take me wherever I needed to go while my motorcycle is in the shop!”

“I never said that,” said Eddie. “And if I did say something like that, I meant I would drive you to school, the dentist, or any other important meeting—not one of your crazy parties to hang out with a bunch of thugs.”

For a man with such an intimidating face and voice, Eddie Gluskin was nothing more than an old-fashioned gentleman. He felt that anyone living below his standard were nothing but gang-bangers and criminals.

“If you come with me tonight, I promise to go with you to one of your stupid lady shops to drool over wedding dresses,” said Frank.

 “I told you, those shops are not only for women! Wedding dresses and arrangements are very respected and profitable, Frank. You shouldn't mock me for thinking about my financial future. You could learn a thing or two from visiting these shops,” said Eddie. Frank looked away and gave a triumphant smile. Yes, he knew Eddie. He knew that he would give anything for a chance to take Frank window shopping for wedding dresses.

“So what do you say, _darling_?” Frank asked with a grin. “Walk me to the party?”

“I told you to stop using that word,” muttered Eddie. He stood for a moment staring at Frank. It was clear how different they were, despite only being a couple of years apart in age. Sometimes people were astounded to learn that Frank was actually the younger of the two. They were even more shocked that two such different people could get along so well and be such close friends.

“Alright, alright...I know that word is a Gluskin Registered Trademark. Look, I promise you, if you get upset or angry about anything, we can leave, understand? I just want you to get out and relax a bit. What's the harm in kicking back and having fun every now and then?”

Eddie's response was a long-suffering sigh. He never agreed to the plan, but he also did not object. Frank was offering him a reasonable deal. After a considerable amount of time while Eddie finished changing and grooming himself for the outing, the pair set off to the party to fulfill Eddie's portion of the bargain. Frank continued to question Eddie's choice of outfit as they approached their destination.

“There is nothing wrong with my clothing choice,” said Eddie, glaring at Frank. He was wearing a long-sleeved buttoned shirt and dress pants. Frank was just grateful that he was not wearing his usual bow tie and vest. Eddie always appeared to be just coming from, or going to, a wedding or formal event.

Their destination was not well-known. It was a small venue, formerly an abandoned building, that was re-opened by one Richard Trager as a night club. Sometimes bands would play, but the club was really more of a dive bar. The windows were broken and the space was too small for the number of people who regularly attended the events. Despite being low-key, the club had become popular with young people from the local high school, many entering with fake ID's.

The smell of smoke and sweat permeated the atmosphere. Eddie's mouth twisted into a grimace upon entering and he cast a disapproving glare at his friend. Frank was one of the most frequent customers to the club and only smiled in response before greeting a couple of girls in black tops and tight pants.

Eddie estimated the women were not over twenty-five years old. One had bottle blond hair with black roots showing and an unruly perm, and the other had short dark hair, the left half completely shaven. The girls looked over Eddie's attire and were unable to keep the small smiles from appearing on their faces. Eddie did not like the looks of those ladies at all, and he found their reaction to his outfit irritating. Both girls seemed to realize this, so they quickly made an excuse about needing to go to the bathroom and said goodbye to Frank.

 

“Come on Eddie,” Frank shouted, “relax a little! We came to have fun!” His comments were drowned out by the music and the crowd. Eddie felt uncomfortable and completely out of place. There was loud music, thick smoke, and far too many people. It was one bad combination after another. Eddie did not bother to complain to Frank because he knew his friend would ignore his complaints, especially considering they had only just arrived.

“I'll get us some beers,” Frank shouted over the noise. “Walk around a little, take a tour. Who knows, you might find something to catch your interest.”

Frank highly doubted Eddie would find anything to lessen his hatred of the place, but he made a quick get away toward the bar. He actually had bigger plans of using the time alone to scour the club for his old band mates.

Frank had spent many years of his youth, through high school and college, as a member of a thrash metal band. The group had since decided to take a break from making music, leading to Frank's “new life” he had mentioned to Eddie. Frank had played lead guitar and was responsible for composing the majority of the band's songs. The band had even had a couple of shows where they opened for larger, reasonably popular acts. Lately, Frank was focused on ending their break and getting the band back together for an epic reunion.

Eddie followed Frank's terrible advice and ended up walking around the perimeter of the crowded club, a weary expression on his face. It was obvious to Eddie that most of the attendees of the club were not over eighteen. Most people in the crowd were loud and obnoxious, puffing away on cigarettes and spilling their cheap beers.

At one point, Eddie was sure he detected the aroma of marijuana. His response was an immediate frown. Eddie thought there was nothing more pathetic than requiring the use of substances to appear mature. He thought the club was comprised completely of superficial and frivolous people—the type of people not worth a moment of his time. They were all sad and pathetic, Eddie thought, struggling to concentrate on his thoughts over the loud whine of an electric guitar and the roar of the crowd. He sighed with relief when the song finally ended.

“We're taking a short break,” the lead singer announced before setting down the microphone and nearly falling into a grappling embrace by none other than Frank Manera.

Great, thought Eddie. It would be impossible to drag Frank away from the club after the crowd while he was rubbing-elbows with the local “celebrities.” Eddie could not fathom why Frank insisted on taking him to these fucking places when it was clear Frank did not need his company. The crowded, smoky club was Frank's natural environment—where he excelled.

The house music was not nearly as loud or grating as Eddie had feared. Eddie was thankful that the volume remained low and his eardrums would not be punctured. He recognized the soft tune and particular sound of the voice. Nirvana, Eddie realized. He recognized the song because it was one of Frank's favorite bands, and Eddie had been forced to listen to it at least fifteen times during one of their week long road trips several years back.

 

 _I need an easy friendship_  
_I do with an ear to lend_  
_I do think you fit this shoe_  
_I do, won't you have a clue?_

Eddie heard a couple of voices laughing and singing along in the distance. His gaze was drawn toward the origin of the noises, more inertia than curiosity—and it hit him. A feeling like an electric current coursed through his veins when his eyes landed on the source of the sound--a young man. Suddenly, Eddie could not tear his eyes away. His hands clenched at his sides. He'd never felt that way from merely looking at someone before. At least, not someone he did not know, and definitely never so instant or powerful.

 _I'll take advantage while_  
_you hang me out to dry_  
_but I can't see you every night Free...I do_

The young man's eyes were closed and he held a beer up to his chest. His head, hips, and legs moved rhythmically to the music. He looked so casual and relaxed in the crowded environment. His faded jeans were ripped at the knees, and his black t-shirt was so faded the logo was undecipherable. A flannel, red plaid shirt was tied around his waist to complete the look. His hair fell past his chin, the soft blond color perfectly framing his young, handsome face. Eddie could not look away from the vision before him.

 _I'm standing in your line_  
_I do hope you have the time_  
_I do pick a number, too_  
_I do keep a date with you_

Without thinking, Eddie walked directly up to the young man. His eyes were transfixed on the boy's dancing, not wanting to miss out on any detail, no matter how small. Where did this guy come from? He was dressed like any other rough customer of the club, but his movements showed a softness that seemed to clash with the music echoing off the walls. Eddie could not look away, blue eyes locked on his target. For the first time that evening, he was thankful for the crowd because it prevented his deliberate actions from standing out—especially when the young man turned in his direction and Eddie's breath caught in his throat.

 _I'll take advantage while_  
_You hang me out to dry_  
_But I can't see you every night Free...I do_

Just when Eddie was sure the show before him could not grow more interesting, a pair of brown eyes met his own and he noticed the ghost of a smile on the boy’s lips. Eddie's heart accelerated rapidly feeling nervous, excited, and fascinated. There were too many emotions to separate.

 _I need an easy friend_  
_I do with an ear to lend_  
_I do think you fit this shoe_  
_I do, won't you have a clue?_

Eddie watched as the young man walked carelessly through the crowd in Eddie's direction with an amused expression on his face. He paid careful attention to every sway of his hips and the delicate curve of his neck. Eddie did not know whether to rejoice or despair as the man approached. He preferred to be a distant observer, but was fighting his body's natural impulse to want to get closer to this person and learn more about them.

 _I'll take advantage while_  
_You hang me out to dry_  
_But I can't see you every night_  
_No, I can't see you every night Free_  
_I do, I do, I do..._

The song ended and Eddie watched the young man empty the beer bottle in his hand. Another song began, but it became background noise that Eddie ignored. He looked down for a moment, unsure how to act. He had never felt so out of place as he did in that moment, lost in a crowd of young people that held nothing in common with his way of thinking. Still, Eddie contemplated approaching this total stranger and asking for his name just to hear his voice. The night just kept getting crazier.

Eddie had never been the type of man to seek out a one night stand. He was not a man who had sheltered many related in his memoirs, but the few I had were the result of hard work, quotes, things, details. And ultimately it was not some strange appearance misaligned in the worst pub.He had taken the decision not to getting around the issue and to stop once and for all that vulgar behavior as before I felt a strong arm around his neck.

“Finally found you, Ed! You had me worried. Where were you?” Frank asked. The sour smell of alcohol hit Eddie's face giving him the warning that his friend was on his way to being tipsy. Frank was a terrible drunk, often requiring Eddie to drag him out of establishments and he tended to make a general nuisance of himself.

“Where did you think I was? It's not as if this place is big enough for me to get lost,” said Eddie. His face showed the annoyance he felt over his friend's condition, but his gaze betrayed him as he looked out across the crowd. The change in his facial expression was not lost on Frank.

“You're having fun, Eddie?” said Frank, grinning. “You want to stay a little longer?” The question startled Eddie and he stared at Frank's undecipherable expression, unsure how to answer.

“Alright,” Eddie conceded, “but only for a little while longer. I have an early commitment and must attend to some orders for my clients.”

“Suit yourself, Ed. Just remember that you have to let go a little...alright?” There was no opportunity to reply when Frank was swallowed up by the crowd again. Eddie felt lost, unsure what to do with himself at that point.

His gaze drifted back to the group of dancing young people. The group consisted of a couple girls and three boys, all dressed in a similar style. The group was laughing and talking loudly as Eddie approached the bar. He took a last look, noting how the young blond stayed in place, watching him. The young man smiled in his direction. His expression was playful and childish, as though he were up to some mischief, before he turned away to address his friends.

Eddie sighed. He was unfamiliar with how one should behave in such a situation having never participated in casual dating. His natural inclinations told him to walk up with a gallant smile and proclaim, “Hello! I'm really attracted to you sexually and found your dance erotic and suggestive. May I buy you a beer?” Common sense told him that was the definite wrong thing to do in this situation.

Meanwhile, Waylon turned to watch the members of his small group. Miles had insisted, per usual, that the group visit that particular club for the third time that week. Miles preferred the club because the beer were cheap and the women were easy, though the last observation earned a scowl from Lisa who seemed a step away from punching Miles in the nose.

“What was that, Park?” Miles said, handing Waylon a freshly opened beer.

“What was what?” asked Waylon.

“Don't play dumb, Way! You were dancing for this guy, right?”

The eyes of the entire group focused on Waylon at the same time. Waylon frowned as he took a sip of his beer.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” said Waylon. “We're all just having fun, Miles. I found it funny that he seemed to be watching me. You think he's some kind of pervert?”

“I don't know. Maybe you could find out tonight,” Miles said in a mocking tone. It was common for him to treat Waylon that way, and he was used to the treatment.

Waylon and Miles had been friends for years. He had given Waylon a chance back when everyone only knew him as the “nerd.” Waylon learned to walk on his own, earning a reputation in the streets, and strengthening his friendship with Miles even more. They both knew exactly what to say—and what not to say-- to one another.

“Sometimes you're unbearable, you know?” said Waylon.

“And sometimes you're too obvious, bro,” said Miles. The rest of the group was content to listen and laugh at their banter. Everyone knew that Miles and Waylon got along despite their tendency to be sarcastic toward one another. The pair had only fought once in their entire friendship, and that time had been a misunderstanding more than anything else. Waylon was the quiet one, while sarcasm and defiance were second nature to Miles.

 

He hoped to make a career out of it one day. Miles' political ideologies tended toward extremes. He was always involved in some social movement, no matter how risky. On more than one occasion, Waylon had been called on to get Miles out of jail after being accused of vandalism because of his participation in a political march that devolved into a riot. He had also been called upon to carry Miles home like a child more times than Miles liked to admit.

After years of friendship, Miles knew all of Waylon's tastes and preferences—what type of men usually caught his eye. That's why the encounter with the stranger had not gone unnoticed. Waylon did not usually flirt so brazenly, even in a club environment. Miles was required by the code of friendship to mention the behavior.

One of Waylon's favorite songs began to play, and it was not coincidence that Waylon casually suggested that his group dance. He pulled the rest of the girls with him, creating a small group of dancing bodies. He started up with his routine similar to before. Waylon may not have been the best dancer, or the best speaker, but his relaxed attitude and focus on his dancing made him ten times more attractive. He continued to seek out eye contact with the strange man, constantly seeking to catch his eye only to look away quickly. That way he could deny it to his friends, though his actions were definitely intentional.

Eddie's internal war continued for the rest of the evening. The interactions with the dancing boy did not end there—he saw him everywhere. When Eddie went to the bar, the boy would be sitting directly across from him, holding his beer up with a slight smile on his face. On his way to the bathroom, the young man walked out as Eddie approached, passing right by without making eye contact—as though the constant eye contact throughout the night had been something Eddie imagined.

No matter where Eddie went or what he did, the scenario was the same—his gaze continued to find the dancing boy despite the growing crowd. A strange thought occurred to Eddie as he began to wonder if maybe the boy was following him in the same way? No—he could not believe that. It was impossible to think someone in a club like that would be interested in any interaction with a man like him. They would have nothing in common! Eddie did not even know what they could talk about.

Miles had noticed the look on Waylon's face and grinned at the positively childish behavior being displayed by both of the men. Who did they think they were fooling with this act? The stranger took pains to stay away from Waylon, while the blond worked hard to remain in the stranger's range of vision. They were too obvious. Miles' attention was suddenly diverted when he felt a hand clap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Upshur! I have to talk to you,” came the voice of Frank Manera, causing Miles to turn around with a shocked expression. They had met recently during one of Miles many visits to the home of Chris Walker. Coincidentally, Chris had been the drummer in a band with Frank though their band was currently on hiatus. It was not uncommon for paths to cross, especially in a small city like theirs with a relatively small scene.

 

“What do we have to talk about? I was under the impression that I was not your type,” Miles said, the grin on his face causing Frank to frown. The two men were strikingly similar which led to their personalities clashing on many occasions.

“I did not come here to talk about your preferences, pal. I came to talk about my boy, Eddie. It's pretty obvious what's happening here? Someone like you should be able to pick up what's going on with the way he's stalking around the club staring at your friend there. I promise you, Eddie does not have the balls to make the first move.”

Miles focused on Frank's words, nodding slowly. Miles was not surprised that Frank would suggest taking action—Miles had had the same thought, after all. Still, he hated agreeing with Frank on anything.

“Waylon's doing it on purpose,” Miles said, “he's purposely flirting with your boy. So...it's mutual. But they're both being stupid. You have some suggestion on how to fix this?”

“Now that you mention it, I do happen to have a plan in mind...”

 

* * *

 

As the night wore on, Eddie's attitude took a turn for the worst. He had ordered a miserable craft beer, which tasted horrible, all for the sake of “supporting local businesses.” The bartenders had a clear preference for plunging necklines and miniskirts which he found trashy. Eddie decided it was time to leave. Part of his deal with Frank was that they would not remain at the club until three in the morning, and it was already growing late and the club was beginning to wear on Eddie's patience.

Eddie started to look for Frank in the crowd, and a frustrated sigh escaped his lips. It seemed that his friend had been swallowed up by the Earth. Eddie looked everywhere, impressed that his friend could actually get lost in such a tiny building. Eddie expected to find Frank spending time with the two sluts that had greeted them upon entering. He had spotted Frank infrequently and always hanging near those two ladies. Perhaps Frank had gotten lucky in scoring a partner for the evening and already left?

“Stupid Frank...he knows I don't like driving home alone this late at night,” Eddie said to himself. His voice was thick with annoyance as he walked to the exit, hoping to find Frank in the parking lot—most likely in the back of some car. Eddie had only to look for the vehicle that was rocking conspicuously. He hated his friend in that moment.

Cold air assaulted Eddie the moment he walked outside and he immediately cursed himself for forgetting to wear warmer clothing or bring a jacket. Then he stopped when he noticed a slender figure leaning against a car with a cigarette in one hand and a cellphone in the other. He glanced up from his phone and noticed Eddie, a small smile on his face. At that point, Eddie forgot all about the cold—and the name of the friend he was supposed to be finding.

“My friends left me too,” said the young blond with a wry smile. He pressed his fingers around the screen of his phone, re-reading again and again the messages from Miles.

_-I...Chris home. The girls also. I am sorry. I love you. Kiss!-_

“Fuck,” cursed Waylon, pocketing his cell as he puffed on his cigarette, staring in the opposite direction from where Eddie stood. “I saw your friend, the guy with the messy long hair? He left with some noisy blond chick. I doubt they're still around...”

“Probably won't be seeing him for at least three days then,” Eddie muttered, fighting to calm his anger as much as his rising desire for the young boy. The two emotions waged war on his thoughts as he continued to stare. The stranger's voice was just as he had imagined: soft—but not too soft, and friendly despite sounding slightly sarcastic. In the dim lighting of the parking lot, Eddie could see his features more clearly. He found himself staring at the boy's clear brown eyes and smooth face.

“You're lucky. Three days is nothing. Once, I lost Miles for almost three full weeks. I had to borrow Lisa's car to pick him up off the side of the road in New Mexico. He never did give me many details about how he got there...” Waylon paused as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a pack of cigarettes. He placed a new cigarette between his lips then extended his hand toward the stranger, “Want one?” Eddie shook his head quickly to decline the offer, causing Waylon to grin with the cigarette between his lips.

“I don’t want to be rude, but what is a person like you doing in a place like this? You shouldn't come dressed up like that. People will think you're a cop...or someone's dad,” said Waylon.

“What exactly is wrong with the way I dress? There's nothing wrong with wanting to dress properly,” said Eddie. The quick reaction pulled at Waylon's heart, though he pushed the feeling away as quickly as it appeared.

“Waylon,” he said, “What's your name?”

The question caught Eddie off-guard. He smiled back and extended his hand in a stiff, formal gesture—another Gluskin Registered Trademark as Frank would call it.

“I'm Edward Gluskin, but most tend to shorten it to Eddie. It's very nice to make your acquaintance, Waylon.”

A strange look came over Waylon's face as he raised his hand and pressed his palm into the huge hand being offered. Their differences were very noticeable in that moment. Apart from their vastly different sizes, they also had vastly different complexions and contrasting hair colors of dark and light. Waylon had never felt like he was weak. He believed his physical stature fell well within the range of average. Still, next to Eddie, he managed to feel very small. It caused conflicting emotions within him as he could not decide whether he should be more intrigued or somewhat intimidated.

“Well. I need to get home,” said Waylon, pushing off the car into a standing position. “Fucking Miles took the car this time so, I guess I'm walking.”

“I could give you a ride...if you had no objections, of course,” said Eddie. The offer was strange considering they were a couple of complete strangers who had only talked one time behind a bar in the middle of the night. Waylon narrowed his eyes as he considered the offer. Ultimately, his attraction to Eddie won out. He was very attractive.

Waylon had always had a weakness for big guys, but Eddie was unique. The way he could appear so calm, gentle, and elegant while maintaining such power and masculinity. Waylon was incredibly interested in getting closer.

“You sure? I mean, I could be a serial killer who takes advantage of nice guys like you and then disposes of their bodies off the side of the road. Or maybe it's you who's hiding a room full of corpses in the basement of your cabin or something,” said Waylon. He had intended the joke to reduce the tension between them, but he was met with an unnerving glare from cold blue eyes. “Oh god, I was right? You kill young guys you pick up at bars!”

“Absolutely not! How can you dare to say such a thing...”

“It was supposed to be a joke? People tend to laugh when I make jokes, you know...”

“I do not find your unfounded accusations entertaining in the least,” said Eddie. Waylon's laugh was one of the most striking and attractive things he had ever heard. He laughed until his cheeks turned red and eyes squeezed shut. Eddie was completely torn between his attraction to the laugh and his discomfort from the previous statement. He was having trouble maintaining an offended expression when he wanted to smile. Waylon's laughter was contagious.

“Would you like a ride home, or not?” asked Eddie.

“Mr. Gluskin! Oh, would you please be so kind as to be my ride tonight?” asked Waylon. The severe look on Eddie's face only intensified, but Waylon just shrugged. Eddie sighed and focused on keeping his composure as he played the role of responsible adult opposite the carefree role of Waylon Park. While the boy was engrossed in smoking his cigarette, Eddie dared a quick look up and down Waylon's body. He was not disappointed.

Eddie fished his keys from his pocket, opened the passenger door, and held it open for Waylon. He paused when he noticed the still smoldering cigarette in Waylon's hand and the pack kept out for easy access.

“There is no smoking in this car,” said Eddie.

“Hmm...wait, what?” asked Waylon, his face a mixture of astonishment and indignation. “Wait, how can you have a rule like that? You're friends with Frank. I'm sure that guy did way worse stuff in this car.”

“Of course not. Frank understands the rules regarding the use of my car, and one of them is that there is no smoking. I would appreciate it if you could put out your cigarette before entering, please,” said Eddie.

Waylon grumbled as he flicked his cigarette to the ground, grinding it into the pavement with his military style boot. Eddie smiled and a triumphant look crossed his face for a fleeting moment before buckling his seatbelt and checking all of his gauges and mirrors. He had to be extra careful after leaving his car parked in such a shady area.

 

“Now, where exactly do you live?” Eddie asked once they were both buckled inside the car.

“I live downtown—just a few blocks to the right of the old train station,” said Waylon. Eddie knew the area. It was known for being rather run-down and unsafe, filled with abandoned houses and poverty stricken neighborhoods.

Waylon crossed his arms, staring away out the window. He was not particularly fond of people knowing where he lived. He had spent most of his life in the area, but even he knew not to walk those streets alone late at night. Eddie wasn't sure how to get Waylon talking once they were driving toward the designated area. An uncomfortable silence settled over the car. Eddie decided to turn on the radio in an effort to ease the tension.

“Stop me if you like a station,” Eddie said, pressing buttons on the dash.

“What is that? Classical music?” Waylon stared at Eddie, trying to keep from outright laughing. He failed. Waylon would have guessed that Eddie was in his forties, though he actually looked much younger than that. “You act like some kind of old geezer. Everything around you is so old fashioned.”

“Excuse me? I don't mind trying another station, but do you really think that noise they play at that club should be considered good music? Let me tell you, it's shit,” said Eddie. Waylon's grin only grew larger. He thought it was funny how easily Eddie could be provoked and enjoyed taunting the older man.

“Wow. So mean,” said Waylon. When Eddie failed to find a station they both agreed upon, silence returned to haunt them both as they sat in the car, unspeaking. Waylon felt his cellphone vibrating from his pocket and slowly pulled it out.

-Don't be stupid, Park. You like him. He likes you. Stop messing around and do something.-

Another helpful message from Miles. Waylon grinned at his phone before staring longingly at Eddie out of the corner of his eye.

“You are so weird, you know that?” Waylon asked, the smile still splitting his face, “and it's this way. Turn right!” Eddie followed the instructions, but he was confused. The area Waylon had originally claimed to live was two streets back and their car was rapidly approaching a small, secluded park. The lighting in the area was dim and spotty allowing for plenty of dark shadows.

“Why did you bring me here, Waylon?” Eddie asked. “We passed the street toward your home just back there.”

“I wanted to show you something before you drop me off. Is that alright?” Waylon asked, turning to face Eddie and smiling. It was much different from his earlier smile, devoid of any sarcasm or derision. Waylon looked happy and his posture where he sat in the car was relaxed. Eddie found it endearing the way Waylon's rough, punk exterior contrasted his complexion and the softness of his face and eyes.

Eddie pulled into the park and drove slowly through the area, pleased to find the landscaping and equipment clean despite being in a poor part of town. Eddie soon found a quiet place to park and turned off the car engine.

“So...what? What did you want to show me?” Eddie asked.

“I hadn't really thought that far ahead. Honestly, I'm surprised you followed any of my directions. I could have been trying to kidnap you or something! That's got me thinking...” said Waylon.

“Thinking about...”

“How much you like me,” said Waylon. Eddie's eyes widened and he quickly attempted to cover up his surprised reaction. It was too late. Waylon had definitely noticed.

“You don't have to deny it,” Waylon said, chuckling. “It was pretty fucking obvious. I could tell you were watching me when I was dancing, and how uncomfortable you were when I caught your eye at the bar. Were you avoiding me?”

Eddie squirmed in his seat, obviously uncomfortable with the direction of their conversation. “I actually believed that it was you who was stalking me.”

Waylon inhaled slowly before unbuckling his seatbelt and moving to the edge of his seat. He leaned closer, his movements slow and controlled. Eddie swallowed hard as Waylon's breath ghosted across his cheek.

“Maybe you were wrong,” Waylon said, right next to Eddie's cheek, “Maybe I spent the entire night trying to get your attention so I could meet you.” Silence stretched on as time seemed to stop. Eddie was not sure how to react. Waylon's breath smelled of smoke and beer, but it felt warm on Eddie's cold cheek. As though driven by some natural impulse, Eddie turned his head suddenly and met a pair of brown eyes, watching him with amusement. Everything was so strange and complicated. It was like being back in high school.

“I like you, Eddie,” said Waylon. “Well, I don't know if it's like. I only know that I am definitely interested in you. Aren't you interested in me, Eddie?” Waylon reached across Eddie's body to touch his shoulder before slowly dragging his hand down his muscular arm and finally coming to rest where Eddie's thigh met his hip. Waylon leaned in even closer until his lips brushed lightly against Eddie's cheek coming dangerously close to his lips in slow, deliberate movements. It took all of Eddie's self-control to keep his hands to himself. Self-control that was rapidly depleting.

“What's the matter? Don't like me? Or what, are you too old? You impotent or something? What more of an invitation are you waiting for,” said Waylon as his hands became more insistent on Eddie's thigh. His lips worked their way down his face until he was kissing along Eddie's strong, chiseled jaw.  He kept his eyes open as he swiped his tongue across Eddie's skin, wanting a front row seat to every reaction, no matter how slight. He noticed how Eddie seemed to be fighting some internal struggle, though his blue eyes were dilated with desire.

“Maybe you don't want...”

The phrase could not be completed. The next thing he knew, Waylon's mouth was imprisoned by a pair of lips. Strong, powerful hands grabbed his hips and he allowed himself to be pulled until he was partially sitting in Eddie's lap. The feel of Eddie's lips was much softer than Waylon had thought. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss while his hands mapped out a vast, warm chest.

Eddie ran his hands firmly over Waylon's hips, moving down to stroke his thighs that strained against the tightness of his pants. It did not even matter that Waylon tasted of smoke and alcohol—Eddie felt fucking great. He could not remember the last time he had kissed someone with such intensity or experienced the feeling of a foreign tongue invading his mouth. Waylon took him by surprise when he placed both hands on Eddie's shoulders and shoved him back against the seat. Eddie was quick to pull Waylon back with a strong grip, enjoying the power play.

“I knew you were a pervert, Eddie. I can feel your kind a mile away...”

“Shut up,” growled Eddie. He found a better use for Waylon's mouth as he started a new round of kisses that soon devolved into biting and sucking desperately at one another. The car was filled with the sound of Waylon panting and Eddie gasping between kisses. Waylon's hips rocked steadily on Eddie's lap, earning new groans from both men. Their clothing became disheveled from the persistent friction between their bodies.

Eddie slid his hands up the back of  Waylon's shirt, enjoying the feeling of his warm, bare back. He felt out of control—like a teenager again. He allowed his hormones and instincts to lead him and soon he forcibly pushed Waylon onto the passenger seat.

“Damn. I could tell you were a guy who likes rough sex just from spotting you tonight. You had sexual frustration written on your face,” said Waylon.

“I told you to shut up, darling. Or perhaps you are going to act like a disobedient bitch tonight?”

Waylon tilted his head at the statement. That was something new—at least in terms of what he had expected from Eddie. Some people may have felt offended or frightened by the turn of events, but not Waylon.

“Did you just call me a bitch?” asked Waylon. He grinned at the distressed look that came over Eddie's face.

“Oh...I...I'm sorry. I have a bad habit of saying some strange things during...”

“...during sex,” said Waylon, finishing the thought. He took advantage of Eddie's hesitation and began to undo the buttons on Eddie's shirt.

“I know it's a problem—it has been in the past. Women do not like it when...”

“I'm not a woman, Eddie. You can call me whatever you like, the more obscene the better,” said Waylon before he resumed kissing Eddie. The pair used their tongues and teeth to communicate hunger and need. Eddie suspected he was not the only one with a habit of losing control during sex.

Eddie's body reacted to those kisses. His hands resumed their movements, starting to move all over any part of Waylon's body he could reach. He lifted Waylon's shirt, desperate to gain access to his slender chest. His movements slowed as he caressed his nipples, taking his time to touch and pinch the sensitive flesh until they were both standing up.

Waylon's hands were also busy moving, stroking under Eddie's shirt and attempting to lift it out of the way, eager to reveal more of his fit body. Eddie's arms were strong, his chest broad, and his thighs felt like paradise. He could not stop the soft moans escaping his lips with each roll of his hips. Both of the men had a need to feel the other, to explore what was hiding beneath their clothes. They began removing garments that were keeping them from achieving these goals.

Eddie's lips dropped to Waylon's neck as his strong hands pushed Waylon’s hips up in an attempt to pull down his tight pants. Waylon finally managed to remove his own shirt and tilted his head back, offering his bare neck to Eddie with a soft sigh. While Eddie continued to kiss and lick across his skin, Waylon's hand snuck down between Eddie's legs and gave a covert squeeze. Eddie's movements stopped all at once.

“Sorry. Did I scare you?” asked Waylon.

“No...it's fine, darling,” said Eddie.

“Why do you call me darling? Is it some kind of weird, fetish thing or something?” Eddie removed Waylon's seeking hand from his lap. Waylon was unfazed, meeting Eddie's gaze defiantly. Still, Eddie was pleased to see that Waylon seemed to yield to his intimidation.

“You say a lot of things with that mouth of yours, darling,” said Eddie. “Maybe we should find a more creative use for that tongue of yours.” Eddie forced his fingers past Waylon's lips and into his mouth before he could complain. Waylon immediately began to lick and suck greedily at the digits, a trail of saliva spilling from the corner of his lips.

Eddie finally succeeded in removing Waylon's tight pants, all while never breaking eye contact. He knew he should calm down and try to control his baser instincts. Usually Eddie only practiced these strange control fantasies about dominating someone else completely in the privacy of his own home. Waylon's response to the dominant actions provided incentive for the treatment to continue.

“You like it rough...like to be treated like the whore you are,” said Eddie, removing his wet fingers from Waylon's mouth and using his other hand to roughly pull Waylon's boxers to the side. Two fingers traced along his puckered entrance, pressing inwards slightly. A frown of discomfort creased Waylon's face, but he made no verbal complaints aside from a broken gasp. The digits continued to prod and explore, though Eddie knew they would require more if he wanted to push further.

Eddie made an irritated noise as he reached to open up his glove compartment and easily located the bottle of lubricant he kept there. Waylon's eyes twinkled with amusement and no doubt he had several snide comments to make about the presence of the bottle, but luckily he kept them to himself. Neither wanted to ruin the moment.

“Look at me,” Eddie said, taking Waylon's chin in one hand and forcing their eyes to meet, “I want you to keep your eyes on me at all times, darling. I want to see every expression and reaction while I am deep inside of you. Are you going to be a good girl for me now?”

A mixture of emotions warred within Waylon. He wanted to laugh at the strange words that were such a contrast to Eddie's neat and proper appearance. Who would have thought that such a somber man would be into such kinky sex? Then again, Waylon knew it was always the most innocent looking people hiding the darkest fetishes. His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when he felt a pair of thick fingers shoved abruptly inside of him, causing him to groan uncontrollably.

Eddie's touch was uncomfortable and somewhat painful, but it was hardly Waylon's first time. He had a long list of past sexual encounters, some even in cars with strangers exactly as they were. He could almost thank Eddie for having the perverted foresight to bring along lube to make things easier. Waylon smiled as he raised his hips, pushing back on Eddie's hand.

“Of course, Eddie...I'll be a good girl tonight,” said Waylon.

Eddie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Where had he found such a seductive creature? In the past, Eddie's partners had much different reactions to his unusual preferences during sex. Most looked at him with complete disapproval. Eddie was accustomed to being in control—in everything, not just sex. He had a set schedule for everything in his day and a habit for keeping everything organized. Sometimes he was confused why his friends even tolerated his behavior. None of his past partners, men or women, had come to understand his specific preferences. Their inability to understand made Eddie feel impatient which sometimes manifested itself in explosions of irritation.

Eddie slid his fingers deeper and Waylon had to arch his body slightly to maintain eye contact as he had been instructed. He kept his hands to himself, afraid anything else might go against his partner's wishes. Eddie was impressed with Waylon's obedience as he worked a third finger past his muscular ring.

“Shit,” hissed Waylon,

“Language, darling,” chided Eddie. “No decent woman would use such vulgarity.”

“Yeah well, I was never a very decent woman,” Waylon gasped, his eyes squinting as he moaned. Eddie licked his lips at the sight of Waylon's pleasure. An adorable blush adorned Waylon's cheeks making him look even more sweet and docile. The innocent appearance only doubled Eddie's need.

Eddie leaned down to close his lips around one of Waylon's nipples. He glanced up to watch his face as his fingers began to thrust faster. Waylon's entire body trembled at the sensation. Eddie's fingers were thick and stretching him almost uncomfortably. He knew from experience that the more he relaxed, the better it would be, but he found it difficult to breathe deeply and relax his body without losing sight of those fierce blue eyes. That intense stare caused Waylon's cock to throb in his boxers where they still covered him partially. He was dying for some stimulation on that part of his body, but considered whether Eddie would object to such behavior. Waylon gave a devilish grin as he decided to test his luck.

“What are you doing,” Eddie snapped.

“Touching myself,” Waylon drawled, starting to stroke his own cock with slow, measured strokes above the dark cloth of his boxers. His eyes closed momentarily at the relief he experienced, despite detecting the annoyance in Eddie's tone. It was no surprise when Eddie's hand grasped his hand and moved to restrain his wrists.

“What did I say about being a good girl, darling? It seems you're striving to misbehave,” Eddie said before biting down on Waylon's chest—hard—leaving a clear bite mark. The moan that escaped Waylon's lips was louder than either expected. There was something very exciting about being dominated by a man like Eddie. Waylon found Eddie's voice and formal manner of speaking so arousing his cock managed to grow even harder.

Eddie bit down again, and managed to pull a shout from Waylon as sharp teeth embedded in pale skin. The metallic taste of warm blood spilling into his mouth had Eddie humming with satisfaction as he licked at the bleeding wound.

“I believe you are ready for me,” Eddie whispered next to Waylon's ear, his three fingers easily sliding in and out. He withdrew his hand and quickly undid his pants, shuffling his clothing until his cock was freed. Waylon watched intently, immediately feeling nervous by Eddie's intimidating size. His member was large and thick, leaving Waylon incredibly grateful that he had taken so much time in preparing his entrance. It would make the next morning much less painful. Waylon began looking around at his discarded pants and the action caught Eddie's attention.

“Look in my back pocket, I always bring a few condoms,” said Waylon.

Eddie frowned, avoiding Waylon's eyes. “What? It's not like I use them all the time, just better to be prepared...”

“It's not that. I just...I require...Special ones” said Eddie.

“Oh, you mean, because you're huge?” asked Waylon, grinning. “I am actually pretty pleasantly surprised to see that...”

“No. I just...need a hypoallergenic condom….”

“Hypo...what?” His following laugh had Eddie breaking out in an actual blush that Waylon found amusing. He was obviously uncomfortable showing even the smallest amount of vulnerability in front of another person.

“Let me guess, you're allergic to sex?”

“Don't be ridiculous!  I'm not allergic to sex. I am allergic to...to latex. It's no laughing matter...” Eddie said, frowning as his cheeks grew warm.

 “That's an excuse I haven't heard before,” said Waylon, his laughter echoing throughout the car. Eddie frowned as his excitement faded slightly and he began to sit back in his seat. Waylon noticed and quickly stopped laughing, sliding his arms around Eddie's neck.

“Sorry. I'm not laughing at you or anything...I'm kind of an idiot sometimes. Forgive me?” asked Waylon. His voice was so sweet and pure, unlike anything Eddie had heard before. Eddie stared into his eyes finding them wide and innocent. “Come on...we're having fun, right? Sorry I was rude. I don't know what others have said about it before, but I think you’re sexy,” said Waylon, rubbing little circles onto Eddie's chest before leaning in to dust kisses along his bare shoulder.

Eddie inhaled deeply, unable to ignore Waylon's words and his hands on his chest. His body was quick to react, once again filled with longing. He especially responded to the gentle feeling of Waylon's hands on him, making him feel wanted.

“Come on Eddie,” whispered Waylon. “I want to feel my husband's seed leaking out of me.” The strange phrasing was inspired by Eddie's strange insistence on their roles as a couple, but Waylon had a feeling there was more to it than Eddie let on. He suspected that Eddie liked his partners dolled up in dresses, pearls, the whole package—no matter their gender. Waylon had never felt particularly feminine, but he was always open to experiencing new things. Especially when he felt Eddie's throbbing shaft respond to his seeking fingers.

Eddie could not hold back any longer. Waylon's body was nearly thrown over the seat. He felt Eddie enter him in one swift motion, penetrating deep and hard. The high pitched moan that escaped Waylon's lips was a pleasant surprise. The invasion had been too sudden and Waylon's hips were pushed up until Eddie was buried to the hilt. Eddie groaned in satisfaction. The vision of Waylon as an obedient wife was the biggest turn on he could imagine.

“Ahh...E-Eddie,” stuttered Waylon.

“Stay still, darling...let me fill you up...” said Eddie between breaths. He began to slam into Waylon with a persistant and punishing pace. He seemed out of control of his actions, completely lost in the fantasy as their hips slapped together with each thrust. Waylon's legs were lifted up, forcing him to arch his lower back, and causing Eddie to achieve an angle that stimulated his prostate on every push.

Waylon's body was already humming with anticipation as he closed his eyes. Eddie's hands on his back were tight enough to leave bruises. Waylon knew he would come quickly if the hard thrusts continued. Eddie's movements were fast and fluid, aided by his previous diligence with the lubricant while preparing Waylon. Soon, he was approaching his threshold, unable to stop himself from moaning Eddie's name.

The sound of his own name on Waylon's lips delighted Eddie. His hands gripped slender hips so tightly his fingernails would leave indents in the pale flesh. The scent of Waylon's body filling the car drove him crazy. He could not stop his thoughts from going to a thousand and one domestic scenarios starring Waylon as his obedient, suburban wife. The fantasy of indulging in marital sex with his partner was one that his thoughts returned to quite often. A few short thrusts later, Eddie filled Waylon with a deep groan. The sudden burst of warmth in his gut had Waylon gasping as his climax followed.

“Ngh...Eddie,” panted Waylon. His eyes were closed and a few drops of sweat rolled down his forehead. There was some soreness in his hips, but the feeling of satisfaction and pleasure was stronger. “I'm full of you...”

“Do you like it, darling? Having my seed inside of you?”

“Love it...” said Waylon, his lips curling into a satisfied smile.

Eddie was thankful that he had agreed to go out that night, though that club had never been his favorite. At least a good, hard fuck had come out of the evening. It took a couple of minutes for the pair to calm their breathing. Eddie looked into Waylon's eyes for a moment. The dim lighting filtering through the window made a beautiful reflection in his brown eyes. They were clearer than Eddie had originally imagined—innocent, attractive. The slight blush on Waylon's cheeks added to his appeal. Eddie leaned in to place a couple of soft kisses on Waylon's flushed face.

Waylon's body shook with a soft, tired laugh. He was not used to being treated so kindly after sex—though it was always something he craved.

“Eddie, you're amazing, really. I don't mean just because you're still inside of me...”

“Do you always speak this way?” Eddie asked, kissing Waylon's lips gently. “You really say the most vulgar things...”

“Look who's talking, pervert,” said Waylon, grinning. “Do you make a habit of picking up young guys and buttfucking them in your car, old man?”

“Only when they are very cute,” Eddie said softly. The warm feeling was threatening to envelop them both and lure them into sleep. Waylon knew he could not give into the temptation. He had to get home sooner or later.

He wondered if this was the last time he would see Eddie. It was not unusual for this type of encounter—after each party gets what they want, they tend to go their separate ways. Miles was always lecturing him about respecting his body and finding more meaningful relationships. Waylon pretended to listen, knowing that Miles was right, but ultimately it was just easier to seek out a physical relationship without worrying about anything emotion. But, there was a first time for everything.

Being with Eddie felt entirely different from anything else he had experienced. The kisses, the caresses—everything was different. Maybe Eddie felt the same way about him.


	2. The Eddie Twist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their first meeting, Eddie and Waylon decided it was best if they did not get involved in a relationship, despite their undeniable chemistry at their first meeting. Waylon’s friends continue to insist that he not let the opportunity slip away. What’s the worst that could happen if he went out on one, little date with Eddie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m making a mess xD. I was going to make this story a one shot, but apparently this story has taken on a life of its own and I have to write more. I’m completely in love with the way I describe Waylon in this fic, and I’m excited about all the potential of the story. I feel I’ve captured some aspects of myself in him, especially in regards to the musical aspect xD. I have lots of ideas about his past life that I will reveal as the story continues.
> 
> Above all, the idea of the band and variants interacting in this environment has inspired me. For the first time I can say openly that each of them is happy and has a good, peaceful life in this AU. 
> 
> Thank you Picaa for all the ideas we have discussed. Much of this fic was built on various conversations we’ve had together and I dedicate much of this work to you because of your amazing and inspiring art work. You shaped many of my ideas in your doodles, which I greatly appreciate.
> 
> The song is from The White Stripes: The Denial Twist  
> Thank you so much Pegacorn!

 

 _**If you think that a kiss is all in the lips** _  
_**C'mon, you got it all wrong, man** _  
_**And if you think that our dance was all in the hips** _  
_**Oh well, do the twist—The White Stripes** _

__

Waylon felt dizzy. It was not the same kind of dizziness that he usually felt when he was drunk. He felt sick and numb, and his eyelids felt heavy. It was a strange feeling. Waylon was not usually the kind of person to overindulge in alcohol and lose control. He had a high tolerance, despite his smaller stature.

 “What’s up Way? You look like shit.”

 Waylon managed to look even more dazed than before. He leaned back and let his head land on the back of the sofa where he sat next to Jeremy Blaire. He felt an arm settle around his shoulders and pull him close. Jeremy used to own clubs that were definitely not Waylon’s scene. The electronic music was so loud as to be headache inducing, as were the obnoxious strobe lights, and the permeating stink of smoke. Waylon started to suspect that Jeremy had put something in his drink.

 “I don’t feel good, Blaire, I think I need to go home…” Waylon’s voice lowered to a whisper as he finished the thought. He could hear Jeremy laughing, but it seemed to be coming from far away, echoing in the distance. There were others present and laughing with him, but they were only shadows in his strange vision which was fading quickly to a pinpoint. He was losing consciousness.

 “I hope you liked your drink, Park. I spent a lot on you this week. I think you should be grateful—considerate even. Don’t you agree?” Jeremy took a bottle of beer from the table and forced Waylon’s lips open. He poured the liquid down Waylon’s throat, despite his resistance. Waylon felt like he was suffocating. He reached out to grab Jeremy’s hand, but it was like a child wrestling against a giant’s strength. He looked into Jeremy’s eyes before losing consciousness altogether. That would be his last memory of the night.

 Waylon opened his eyes and felt the movement of a car. He turned his head to look toward the driver’s seat. Eddie sat up straight and concentrated as he drove, eyes focused on the darkened streets. Waylon felt rather embarrassed of the ridiculous slouching position he had slipped into after he had passed out. He briefly wondered why Jeremy would pop into his mind at a time like that. He did not know how to describe their relationship—if you could call it that, since it was never clear if they were formally together. Ultimately, his interactions with Jeremy were a game based on power and control--where Waylon was just another possession in Jeremy’s collection. It had taken Waylon years of these games before he recognized the truth.

 “You fell asleep, darling,” said Eddie, his tone gentle as he reached a hand across to softly caress Waylon’s numbed cheek. Eddie’s hand felt warm against his chilled face and he slowly realized a thick coat had been placed across his chest and lap. Everything seemed so soft and pleasant—Waylon could not help but smile at the kind gesture.

 “Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I’m pretty tired…ya know, from the sex,” said Waylon, his tone casual. His nonchalant way of speaking about sex seemed to embarrass Eddie less than before. It was only natural considering neither one could judge the other: they had both just had sex, in a car, with a virtual stranger.

 “Are we close to your house?” Eddie asked.

 “Sure, just a couple of streets, then it’s the third house on the left,” Waylon said, raising his arms as he stretched while yawning. The warmth and comfort of the coat made him feel good. Eddie followed his directions and stopped the car in front of a dilapidated old house with an unkempt lawn. Waylon noticed how Eddie took in the sight and then avoided looking at him. He regretted the condition of his house, but not enough to feel embarrassed of his mother or their lifestyle. Waylon just hated having to give anyone some kind of explanation for why they lived the way they did. Jeremy had always been quick to ridicule him about it.

 “Well, thanks for driving me, Eddie. That night ended better than expected,” said Waylon, all traces of ridicule and sarcasm gone from his voice. He threw Eddie’s coat into the backseat and unfastened his seatbelt. He no longer felt like mocking the older man. He felt too relaxed and satisfied--as well as a feeling he could not begin to describe.

 Eddie felt the same. There was something about the idea of never seeing Waylon again that made him feel sad. He knew it was stupid and immature to feel that way about someone he had just met, but he could not shake the feeling. Waylon stared at him with the same unspoken question on his face as both waited in silence, as though needing some sign from the universe about what to do next.

 “Could I get your number?” Eddie asked, pulling his phone from his pocket. Waylon was surprised by the question, but he broke out in a smile at the strange way Eddie held his phone, as though technology were completely foreign to him.

 Waylon looked down, not sure how to react. He did not expect to see Eddie again or to remain in any kind of contact, considering they were complete polar opposites. Still, he could see no real harm in giving out his number. Instead, he shrugged and relayed the number.

 “Splendid. I suppose the proper protocol is for me to send you some kind of textual message or a call at some point, correct?” asked Eddie.

 “Whatever you say, Eddie,” Waylon said with a grin. “Good night.” Both men stared at one another and their bodies ended up leaning closer to one another. Waylon was not sure how to act at the end of such a night, especially considering their evening activities. Usually, Waylon’s partners preferred to have sex in a hotel room and he could leave the room before the other person woke to avoid any uncomfortable goodbyes. It felt different with Eddie, though. He was so attentive and considerate, making everything feel much more formal. It was all very strange to Waylon.

 Seemingly at the same time, both men decided on a parting kiss. Even though he was new to this type of goodbye kiss, Waylon felt pleasantly warm at the tender way Eddie kissed him. His lips moved soft and slow against his own causing him to sigh softly. The kiss was completely different from their previous kisses which had been full of a fierce desire. This was much slower and gentler, as though Eddie were savoring his last fleeting moments with Waylon. When they finally pulled away, Eddie’s hand rested gently against Waylon’s cheek and the two held eye contact for several heartbeats. Finally, Eddie gave a small smile and placed one last quick goodbye kiss on Waylon’s nose and lips.

 “Sleep well,” said Eddie before dropping his hand and sitting up straighter in his seat. Waylon slumped in the passenger seat, confused on what to do next, and still reluctant to look away from Eddie. He finally got out of the car and stopped at his front door, turning to watch Eddie drive away. He stared into the darkness until the sound of Eddie’s car’s engine was a distant hum. What the hell just happened? Everything had felt so different, especially the strange way they had said goodbye.

 Waylon went straight to his room and dropped onto his bed. He stared up at his battered ceiling, leaving his cell phone on the nightstand right beside his pack of cigarettes. He was exhausted, but the sense of confusion and the vivid memories kept him from finding rest.

 No matter how hard he tried, Waylon could not stop thinking of Eddie. His intense blue eyes, his soft, deep voice, and the way the scent of his cologne still clung to his denim jacket. Waylon felt like a pathetic schoolgirl with a crush—the same way Miles was with Chris Walker. Miles was always obsessively wanting to talk about Chris and trying to orchestrate a “chance” meeting. Waylon had no intention of letting himself become that way.

 In fact, Waylon would probably have no reason to ever see Eddie again at all. It was unusual for Eddie to go to the clubs that Waylon frequented. Their only connection was his brief acquaintanceship with Frank Manera. Waylon did not know the man directly, but he had heard stories about his legendary parties, excessive lifestyle, and other strange hobbies. He had even attended a couple of shows where Frank’s band had played.

 Miles was especially fond of going to watch them, motivated by his desire to watch Chris play the drums. He turned into a beast when he took his position behind the drum set. Waylon knew they were all close to Eddie, since there was always a rumor about a close friend of the band that did not fit in with the rest of the crew. Just Waylon’s luck, he had to run into said misfit friend--though maybe it wasn’t such bad luck, after all.

 Meanwhile, Eddie returned to his own house. If Waylon felt strange, it was ten times worse for him. Not only had he engaged in sex with a younger man in a car, in public, but he had acted so strangely during the act. Instead of treating the act like some quick and dirty release, Eddie had treated Waylon like someone he was dating--kissing him and caressing his face as though he were some delicate flower to be treasured.

 What the hell had happened to him?! Waylon must have thought he was completely weird. It was not normal to change such a rough, casual encounter into something romantic. The flush on Waylon’s face had prompted a tenderness in Eddie which he tried to explain away as post-coital emotions. But then why had it felt so natural to kiss him goodbye and ask for his number? Eddie was not sure why he felt the way he did.

 The thought of not seeing Waylon again caused a tight, strange feeling in his chest. He had to find a way to get in touch with Waylon again, and hoped desperately that he had not been given a false number. His inadequate feelings left him feeling clumsy and confused. He did not want to worry about the situation that night. All worrying could accomplish was a migraine headache leading to a bad night’s sleep and then an equally bad mood in the morning. He was sure that in the morning, the scent of Waylon’s musk on his clothes would have dissipated, as well as the unusual feelings and the haunting memory of their last kiss.

 The next morning, Eddie woke up early, per usual. Everything in his daily routine was calculated, starting with reviewing the accounts of the different customers expected that day. Eddie’s shop had only been open for a few months, but it had already become very popular and he had many regular customers. Working on the finances and picking out materials was one of the most relaxing activities for Eddie. The practice completely confused Frank who often commented on Eddie’s boring lifestyle.

 Most of the morning passed quietly, despite the constant desire to send a good morning text message to Waylon, or to ask how he was feeling, or even just to wish him a good day. Why was he having these types of desires for someone he had just met? He attributed the feelings to the fact that before the previous night, he had not had any type of sexual activity for months. Eddie had completely thrown all of his moral values out the car window that night.

 The sound of the front door opening pulled Eddie from his thoughts and he watched the familiar sight of Frank Manera walking into his home with one of his guitars on his back and a huge smile on his face.

 “How’d my boy do last night!” Frank asked, his tone boisterous as he grabbed Eddie’s neck and started  mess his hair despite protests and complaints, as well as several attempts to shake him off.

 “Do not do that, Frank! I have said, time and time again, I do not like…”

 “Look who’s in a bad mood this morning. Guess you didn’t get laid last night after all. I want to know everything, come on man, don’t skimp on any of the details…”

 “I am not saying anything! That is private and personal information Frank, also…”

 “Ha! So you DID sleep with him! That a boy, Eddie! I’m so happy for you, man, you can finally move past this sexual frustration thing you’ve had going on. I hadn’t seen you get laid since…What was her name…Amanda? Madison? Whatever, I don’t remember, but she had a horrible name. Come on, we’ve got to celebrate! I even brought Stacy over so I could play you a song,” said Frank.

 Frank had many strange habits, like wearing dark glasses everywhere, anytime, no matter the time of day. He also always wore boots, especially cowboy boots or combat boots. But the strangest habit had to be the way he would name his guitars and treat them like people. Even though he was careless with some of his other possessions, like his motorcycle, he always took great care of his guitars. He had one in every style, shape, size, and color. Talking to them was part of his daily routine. Eddie always wondered how he could stand to be friends with such a strange person, but they had been friends for so long the strange habits had become part of their normal interactions.

 “Alright Ed, this song is dedicated to you…”

  _I want to sing about how Eddie had sex with a young guy,  
__But if I do he’ll probably throw me out a window if I try_

 A huge smile split Frank’s face. Upsetting Eddie Gluskin was one of his favorite hobbies. Eddie was too temperamental, so it was too easy to provoke him with the slightest effort. They were always joking around with one another. They had been friends for so long that neither took any of the teasing seriously. Joking around was a huge part of their friendship.

 “I can’t believe you fucked that guy, he was young—I mean, really young for you. Tell me everything, did he have a nice ass? What did you do in the car? Did you guys have sex at your house or his? Did you wear a dress? Maybe you just used a dress…”

 “Frank…”

 “Oh, you both wore a dress? Wow, that is pretty dirty, but it shows the boy likes it kinky. I mean, that’s probably why he noticed you in the first place…” said Frank. Eddie covered his mouth with his hand, fighting back the urge to kick his friend out of his house. Frank was being annoying, but Eddie had to agree with some of what he said. His mood was particularly good that day, and he found himself unable to avoid or deny the questions about his evening. It all came back to that adorably disheveled blond boy that Eddie could not get out of his thoughts.

 Meanwhile, somewhere in the suburbs, Waylon and Miles were sitting around together. It was their normal routine after a night out to meet and catch up with the previous night’s events. Normally, Waylon would have been angry at Miles for leaving him stranded at the club, but he was finding it hard to stay angry considering how it had led to him meeting Eddie.

 Miles knew he had orchestrated the mysterious encounter. It was no coincidence that Miles and Frank both vanished, leaving Eddie and Waylon stranded together in the parking lot. The fated meeting had turned out better than either of them could have planned. Waylon sat smiling and feeling relaxed, while Miles could not tear his eyes away from his cell phone.

 “How did it go at Chris’ house last night?” Waylon asked, noting a half eaten sandwich and a bag of chips open on a nearby table.

 “Fine. I mean, there were tons of people, like always, but I at least got to say hello and chat with him a bit. You know how popular he is,” said Miles.

 “He’s a nice person, always kind to people. It’s not surprising people want to hang around him,” said Waylon.

 “Yeah, I’m aware, Way, but I just wish I could talk to him alone for once, you know? Without people interrupting us every five minutes,” Miles said, leaving the phone on his lap for a moment. He glanced at Waylon out of the corner of his eye, a knowing smile on his face. “How about you? How’d it go? Did you end up leaving with that pervert?”

 “His name is Eddie Gluskin. And yes, he drove me home last night. And we had sex in his car,” said Waylon.

 Miles was used to the casual way that Waylon discussed sexual activity. It was not unusual and they both always ended up recounting every sordid detail to one another.

 “So he was a pervert then. Glad to hear that—how was it?” Miles asked, his eyes once again focused on his cell phone. Waylon assumed Chris was rising so fast on the different social networks because Miles was one of his more active supporters. His infatuation with Chris began long ago, and Waylon was accustomed to his friend’s obsessive behavior.

 “It was…good. No, great. At first, I thought he would be a prude, considering the way he was dressed. I thought for sure he’d try to shut me down or say I was indecent and disgusting…but nope. He’s hung, and he has a problem with condoms,” said Waylon.

 “Oh yeah, they were too small for him? Or were they those cheap kind that are too thin and tear easily?” asked Miles. Waylon was not the least bit offended by his friend’s intrusive questions. They had no secrets from one another.

 “No, not that. I mean, he _was_ huge…and thick. There was a second there where I thought I could feel him prodding at my stomach he was so deep. It was…amazing, to tell the truth,” said Waylo.

 “Well, that’s great Way. I’m glad you found someone to fuck that could fill all your expectations…among other things…”

 “Yeah. When we were done, he did those things I only see them do in the movies,” said Waylon.

 “He licked your asshole? That’s disgusting…”

 “No, not that…though I have done that before. What I mean is, when we were finished, he…he looked at me. And hugged me. He kissed me like, all over my face, lips, cheeks…it was very sweet and gentle. Then again when he dropped me at my house, he asked for my number and kissed me again…like we were dating instead of having just fucked in a parked car. It was weird,” said Waylon.

 Miles’ attention was completely on Waylon as he finished his story, his cell phone in his lap forgotten for the moment. He noted the way Waylon’s expression soften and a slight smile tilted his lips as he recalled the events of the previous evening. It was very unusual that Waylon showed any kind of emotions when talking about his sexual conquests and one-night-stands. Miles could tell that he was truly interested in the mysterious new man whose only connection to them was through Frank Manera.

 “Did you give him your number then, and kiss him goodbye?” asked Miles.

 “Yep. Just like a normal date. That’s what was strangest of all I guess. I have no idea whether he will call or if I will ever see him again,” said Waylon. He sighed and slouched down on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling of the Upshur home. During the morning, Miles had noticed Waylon constantly watching his phone. Waylon knew it was stupid to expect anything to happen so soon, but he could not stop himself from hoping it would happen. Miles could tell Waylon was watching his phone.

 “You want him to call. You think he will?” asked Miles.

 “Eh, I don’t know. I really don’t know. I don’t know if I’m hoping he will call, or what I want to happen if he did. He’s a really serious person, I doubt we are looking for the same things in a relationship,” said Waylon.

 “What’s that supposed to mean? What’s does he want that you don’t?” asked Miles. Waylon met his friend’s blue-green eyes, but his face was unreadable. Waylon was used to rejection. He tended to hide his relationships, never wanting to openly admit that he was committed to someone.

 “He wants what everyone wants—well, what most people want at least,” said Waylon. “Stability. A serious, lasting relationship with a possibility of a future as a couple. You know I can’t be that for anyone, Miles. It’s not my style. I’m the kind of guy you hide in the closet so people don’t see—or the guy you fuck in a back alley while your wife is waiting for you to come home for dinner on a Friday night. What can someone like me bring to a relationship?”

 “Stop talking yourself down like that. You could provide all those things to someone, if you wanted to. You could find someone decent who would treat you well, instead of using you like some kind of disposable fuck toy. How can I make this more clear: you like him, and he likes you. Who knows, maybe something good can come from this,” said Miles. He always tended to have an optimistic world view, contrasting Waylon’s cynicism. Waylon would rather expect nothing and be surprised if something happened, rather than to expect something and be disappointed when it never came.

 Miles was ultimately right, Waylon knew. Having a negative attitude was not good and he needed to remember to relax and enjoy life sometimes. He needed to focus on getting healthier. The lifestyle Waylon was living was fast and full of excess. Miles and Waylon had a similar way of life, but Waylon always seemed to take it a step too far. He dated the wrong kind of people, and then had to answer to the consequences of these unhealthy relationships. Just when Waylon would believe he had hit rock bottom, his poor judgment and uncaring attitude allowed him to fall even further.

 Waylon knew he needed to move away from that type of environment. That was why he had decided to take a break from relationships all together. He made the decision to stop dating eight or nine months before, and had managed to stay out of many of the dangerous situations that used to be so common place. Miles and the gang supported the idea—everyone was worried about Waylon’s safety from jumping between partners and sketchy situations. They were pleased that Waylon had shown interest in someone different from his usual type. Waylon had broken his self-imposed “vow of chastity” with Eddie.

 That was how Miles knew Waylon must really like this Eddie guy. Waylon had been ignoring advances for months, telling most guys that flirted with him to go to hell—until that night. For some strange reason, Miles was happy that Waylon had chosen to end his hiatus with a guy like Eddie. Miles had seen him at the club, his frown and tailored clothing making him look older and the undeniable sexual frustration written on his face. Somehow a man like that was the closest friend of Frank Manera.

 Miles understood that Eddie was not involved with the band directly. He had heard talk of Frank’s childhood friend with a knack for sewing who was serious and reserved, but ultimately a decent and respectful man who valued his morals and integrity. Miles was rather shocked that he had yielded so easily to Waylon’s seduction. That must mean that the attraction was mutual for both men.

 Despite their differences in style, and Eddie’s blatant dislike for their lifestyle, Miles knew that Waylon would not put much stock in superficial things like that. Waylon may not want to admit it, but he was attracted to his opposite. Lisa and Stella had been excited that Way could finally find someone who could offer a healthy relationship. They were happy to leave with Miles, abandoning their friend at the bar in hopes of creating an opening for Waylon’s chivalrous gentleman friend to make his move.

 “Wait until I tell Lisa,” said Miles with a grin. “I think she is more excited about this than anyone else. You know she’s always trying to find you a boyfriend.”

 “I did not find a boyfriend, Miles. I found a challenge. Don’t try to make this into something it’s not, okay? It’s nothing really.”

 “Are you blind? I can tell what’s happening. Just you wait and see…”

* * *

 

 

 The rest of the week passed uneventfully, until Wednesday arrived. It was Waylon’s day off and he was sitting in the small kitchen bar in his home, watching television. His cell was resting on the counter next to the remote control. He had slowly given up hope of receiving any kind of return call from Eddie. He knew he should leave it at that, but deep down, he was constantly wishing he had been the one to ask for a number. Then he would not have to feel so powerless.

 “Waylon? I’m about to go to work. You staying in, or going to see Miles?” asked Alma Park. She entered the room, a long French braid draped over her shoulder and wearing her waitress uniform. She picked up her keys from their usual place on the shelf and looked over her son.

 “I don’t know mom. I might go visit Miles, but probably not until the afternoon. Not sure though, he might want to go watch Chris again,” said Waylon.

 “What is that boy waiting for, a chance to fall out of the sky! He should just talk to the guy,’ said Alma with a sigh. “Anyways, I am off to work. If you do go make sure you text me, okay? I worry. She kissed Waylon on the cheek and darted out the door. Waylon nodded and poured more cereal, attempting to focus on the crime drama that was on television when his phone began to ring on the counter. It was an unknown number, and Waylon frowned at the phone before answering.

 “Hello?”

 “Waylon…” The voice was unmistakable, drawing an automatic smile from Waylon. Eddie. Waylon slowly pushed his half-eaten cereal away and ran his hand through his hair nervously. He had never felt this way when receiving a call from one of his past conquests. “It’s me, Eddie.”

 “Yeah, I know. I’m not sure if you know this, but your voice is pretty distinct. So what’s up?” asked Waylon. His voice always seemed to have a funny twist in his intonation, which Eddie always noticed. Even though he could not see Waylon, he knew he was smiling, and that, in turn, caused Eddie to smile just picturing it in his mind. This might actually be worse than a high school crush.

 “I was wondering if you would like to accompany me tonight? Perhaps we could go to dinner together, or something, if that’s okay—and if you have no previous engagements, of course,” said Eddie. At this point, Waylon placed his fist over his face, trying to keep the huge, stupid smile from his face. He failed miserably.

 “Do you always have to talk so strange and formal, Eddie?” asked Waylon before he paused, humming into the phone. “Well…well, okay. It’d be good to get out of the house, or whatever. Want to meet somewhere at eight o’clock?”

 “No. I’ll pick you up at your house. I will send you a message before I arrive. Is this acceptable?”

 “Uh, sure thing, _darling_ , hope to see you soon Eddie,” said Waylon, adding emphasis to the world ‘darling’ in an attempt to sound more like Eddie. It was crazy, but for some reason, Eddie actually seemed to want to get to know him better. Waylon could not fathom why he felt this way, considering their vastly different lifestyles, but if Eddie was willing to try then so was he. Who knew? Maybe something good could come out of their chance meeting at a dive bar.

 After the call, Waylon was surprised and excited. He knew he needed to control his emotions, and especially his hormones, but he could not stop himself from laughing after Eddie hung up. He left his cereal dish in the kitchen sink, still in disbelief that Eddie wanted to see him a second time—for a dinner date, no less. He was glad that Eddie called so early so he could pass the time cleaning up and doing chores around the house. Otherwise, the anticipation of the evening would threaten to overwhelm him.

 Waylon dusted the furniture, wiped the counters, took out the trash, swept the floor, cleaned the bathroom, and raked the leaves in the backyard. He was not normally so industrious at home, but he needed something to occupy his mind while he waited. His mother would be shocked at his unusual behavior.

 Eddie did not know what the hell had happened. When he decided to call Waylon, it felt as if something in his brain stopped for a moment, and he was unable to think about anything but his desperate need to see Waylon and talk to him one more time. He was constantly thinking about him during the week, wondering if Waylon was thinking about him at all, or about their Saturday night together.

 He was lucky that Frank did not come home early. He did not want to have to withstand constant torment from his friend’s jokes about the fact that Eddie had made a date with a man eight years younger than him. His train of thought stopped the second he realized he had just referred to their meeting as a date. Eddie had a date. A date with a man who was much too young, too liberal, and too different from anyone he had previously dated. How should he even start to date someone like Waylon?

 Eddie tended to take his dates to fancy restaurants in order to impress them, but he felt that would be too formal for Waylon. He had no idea where to take him, and even less of an idea what they would talk about considering they had so few things in common. Talking about music had never been something Eddie enjoyed, and he could not imagine Waylon wanting to hear him drone on about his bridal clothing business. Talking about work with his young date would be very strange. Maybe the date was not such a good idea after all, but it was already set and Eddie would never cancel—it was incredibly impolite. Only time would tell whether he had made a mistake.

 The hours passed too slowly for both parties. They were both nervous about what could happen, their anxiety palpable. Eddie knew he was going into new territory, unknown and foreign. He had no idea the kind of interactions they would have on their date.

 Around six o’clock, Waylon began to get ready. He felt like an idiot, having no idea how to behave when he had a date. A date! He could not believe it, much less accept the fact that he had agreed so easily. He had to shower and sift through his closet to find some of his more presentable clothes that he wore less often. Most of his clothing was broken, torn, worn or old. He put on his favorite pair of black boxers and a tank, then managed to find some almost new, black pants and a nice blue shirt. He even cleaned his boots, though he wondered if that wasn’t taking it a step too far. Waylon’s mother was beyond surprised when she came home to find the house cleaned and her son in front of the bathroom mirror, fussing with his hair, and wearing the most presentable outfit she had seen him wear in possibly years.

 “Waylon? Are you using hair gel? You and Miles going out or something?” she asked with barely contained shock, unsure what to make of Waylon’s new attitude. He had not mentioned any special upcoming event, and she had no idea what to make of the strange, grooming behavior and nice clothes.

 “Nah, I’m not seeing Miles tonight. I’m going out with someone else,” said Waylon.

 “I see…well, I’m about to go out with Dana. Don’t come home too late, okay?” A part of Alma was unsure how to react to the news that her son had a date, but it was good to see this side of Waylon. Was he actually considering a serious, loving relationship with another person? That was good news to Alma who was all too familiar with his disillusioned and cynical view on relationships. She knew Waylon’s inclination to reject relationships had a lot to do with the way his father had abandoned them both. He saw relationships as empty promises that would leave him alone in the end, thus he preferred nothing beyond casual encounters. Alma supported her son’s lifestyle and never questioned his sexual orientation. All she wanted for her son was a caring, stable relationships where he could feel loved. Maybe the person coming around that night could be the one to give him that?

 Eddie was accustomed to dressing formally. Even when he was forced to go to one of Frank’s concerts, Eddie had no problem picking out clothing that reflected his character. Usually, he wore long-sleeved shirts, jackets, ties and other formal clothing that seemed to come right out of the fifties. Sometimes people would ridicule his choices, or rather, Frank was always teasing him, but Eddie did not care. He still preferred to dress formal, feeling most at home in a full suit, jacket, vest and tie.

 For the date that evening, Eddie attempted to dress as casual as possible. He chose a brown jacket over a black shirt to appear more  “youthful” in a failed attempt to have more in common with Waylon. He knew the night was bound to be one disaster after another. As the time crept closer and closer, he decided to grab the keys and leave instead of waiting any longer. Instinct told Eddie that he should bring something to offer his date, but he found every possible idea lacking. What would a man—a very young man—like Waylon want with flowers, chocolates, or some other kitsch? Ultimately, someone as into free-love and the alternative scene as Waylon would be bored to tears with an evening spent with someone like Eddie. The evening would be a disaster and Waylon would end up rejecting him. Eddie pushed the onslaught of negative thoughts from his mind in order to calm his nerves.

 He arrived on time and got out of the car, leaning casually against it while he waited patiently. Waylon appeared ten minutes later and Eddie was startled at how formal and tidy he appeared, though he somehow managed to retain his rebellious air. He could not help thinking that Waylon looked cute. Ridiculously cute.

 “I thought you were going to message me before you got here. You’re lucky I checked outside, I was waiting for your text,” said Waylon.

 “I wanted my arrival to be a surprise, darling. Are you ready, then?” asked Eddie.

 “I’m always ready, Eddie,” said Waylon with a sly grin.

 Eddie promptly held the door to the car open for his date. Waylon got into the car, noting how Eddie had taken pains not to look quite as adult-though he failed at looking completely informal.

 There was obviously a great attempt on Eddie’s part to look more relaxed, despite the air of responsibility that always surrounded him. He was polite, courteous and gentlemanly, treating his male date the same way he would anyone else. A polite smile was lit up his face as he began to drive. Originally, Eddie had planned to take Waylon to a nearby restaurant that was not too formal but was still one of Eddie’s favorites due to the variety of food and the friendliness of the employees. He hoped the relaxed atmosphere would help him be more relaxed on their date. His hands automatically steered him toward the well-known destination.

 Things happened so fast, Eddie barely had time to react and pull off the main roadway into a vacant lot and put the car into park. His gaze darted in all directions, as if someone would jump out of the bushes at any moment and catch them. Between Eddie’s legs was Waylon Park, his face buried in his crotch and mouth wrapped around his cock. Waylon rested one hand on his thigh as he continued to gobble his cock, managing to keep his throat relaxed and take him all in despite his considerable length and girth.

 Eddie was completely flushed, wondering how the hell it had come to this? Did they have no self-control? He was embarrassed, especially because he had intended to discuss boundaries in their relationship to keep it from being only about sex as it was on their first meeting. But Waylon acted fast, and his seductive actions made it too easy for him to chase away all of Eddie’s rational thoughts. There was a teasing touch to his thighs, followed by Waylon’s warm breath along his zipper. Eddie slammed on the brakes and parked quickly to avoid causing a traffic accident. He sat in the parked car, attempting to slow his breaths and collect his thoughts.

 Waylon was too skilled with his tongue. One hand gripped the thick base of Eddie’s member, his fingers stroking up and down, massaging as he began to suck lightly and lick along the tip. With each movement, he took slightly more of the intimidating length into his mouth until he had a little less than half his length submerged in his mouth. Waylon was proud of his accomplishment as he continued to work his tongue and lips. Eddie tried desperately to remedy the situation, fingers threading through Waylon’s hair roughly. He had absolutely no idea the correct way to ask someone to stop sucking his dick.

 Waylon saw his reaction as a great sign and he sped up, his movements becoming much more aggressive. Eddie’s moans soon filled up the car as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the car seat. He could not believe what a disaster their date had already become.

 “Please…stop” said Eddie, haltingly, before he could press a hand to his mouth to muffle the sounds. Waylon had transformed him into a mess of moans and guttural sounds. The uncontrollable spasms in his pelvis told him there was precious little time before he reached his climax.

 Waylon’s fingers sought to stimulate further down as his hand pushed further into Eddie’s pants. He carefully massaged his balls, rubbing in the traces of saliva that spilled from the corners of his mouth. It was one of the most complicated and difficult blowjobs he had given, and he was proud of his handiwork. He felt please that his skills could make Eddie lose control so thoroughly.

 Eddie’s eyes clenched tighter and his hips rose automatically, no longer able to hold back. Waylon nearly drowned in the release, the sticky fluid filling his mouth which was still wrapped around the intruding member, taking as much of his length into his throat as possible.

 “Ahh,” the moan that Eddie gave following his orgasm was elevated but also masculine. It took him several moments before his breathing returned to normal. Waylon slowly sat up, licking his lips and looking at Eddie. His proud expression resembled a soldier just having returned from winning a battle.

 "Mmm, you taste good. Did you like it, Eddie?”

 “Are you out of your mind? We almost got into an accident!” Eddie’s usually perfect hair had become displaced, a few unruly strands falling into his eyes. His face was a mixture of satisfaction and annoyance. Waylon could not help but laugh at the sight—made even funnier by how easy it had been to achieve. Eddie had offered no objection at the time.

 “If you didn’t want me to suck your dick, it would have been simple to stop me, Eddie. You could have pushed me back in my seat…but you didn’t. Why don’t you just do us both favor and admit it—you’re as big of a pervert as I am.”

 “There is a place and a time for such behavior, Waylon! That was completely dangerous, and irresponsible, and…”

 “Exciting? Admit it, you loved it. I could hear it in all the sounds you were making. We didn’t crash! Everything went fine, and you got a blowjob,” said Waylon. Eddie did not know whether to laugh or cry. Waylon’s laugh made him look like a child about to cause mischief and loving every minute of it. He could not deny that he had enjoyed everything Waylon did with his mouth, but he was not about to say that out loud. It may have been easy for him to stop the action, but it would have been impossible for him to willingly end the sensation of Waylon’s tongue on his sex.

 Eddie started the car and drove to the restaurant as quickly as possible, not wanting to give Waylon any further opportunities to seduce him while he was driving. The place was more of a family restaurant and he immediately regretted the decision when he saw all the happy families dining, while he escorted his succubus of a date who derived great pleasure from teasing him in public.

 “Have whatever you like, it’s on me,” said Eddie as he sat at a table near the windows. Waylon glanced at the menu, a crooked smile on his lips as he flipped through the pages.

 “Good evening! I’m Lucy, and I’ll be your waitress tonight. Are you two ready to order?”

 “But Eddie, I already ate…”

 “Do not start with me, Waylon,” said Eddie before clearing his throat. “Yes, I would like to order a steak, garnished with mashed potatoes, a side salad and a glass of iced tea to drink, please.”

 “I’ll have a burger with fries and a Coke—lots of ice, Lucy, thanks a bunch,” said Waylon. The waitress took their menus and returned to the kitchen. After she departed, the atmosphere at the table was uneasy, the tension palpable between them, especially for Eddie who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

 “Sorry. I know I probably shouldn’t have done that, Eddie, but it was…really hard to resist. Plus, it could have been worse—I could have tried to go down on you here in the restaurant…which is actually not a bad idea. Hey, I should try…”

 “Please, restrain yourself,” Eddie muttered, unable to tell if Waylon was joking or not. His date seemed very amused by the situation, slowly running his tongue across his lips, forcing Eddie to divert his eyes.

 “I fit so much of you in my mouth earlier. Can you believe that? It was seriously an achievement for me. I deserve a medal or something,” said Waylon, using his hands to illustrate his best guess of Eddie’s size and then aimed the phantom phallus at his mouth. At that point, Eddie could have died of embarrassment.

 “Please, for the love of…”

 “Alright, alright. Sorry. I’ll change the subject,” said Waylon.

 Both were silent as they waited for the waitress to bring their soda and iced tea. Waylon began toying with his silverware while Eddie stared at him, trying to come up with something to talk about. It was just as Eddie had feared, they had nothing in common—nothing to talk about.

 “So, tell me, what are you studying right now, Waylon?”

 “Nothing. I dropped out of school five years ago, and I’ve been working at the market since then. I’m a cashier. It’s weird but sometimes, I get tips. Can you believe that? People give me cash tips. Usually it’s older women just trying to be charitable…but sometimes, it’s older men, and I can tell it’s because they’re just as perverted as you, Eddie.”

 Eddie choked loudly on a sip of his tea as he listened. It seemed that Waylon would always find a way to steer the conversation toward something inappropriate. He was making it nearly impossible to carry on a civil conversation.

 “Well, I finished high school. After that, I decided to find a way to open a business which I had in mind for some time. I was fortunate that I found a place to open my shop so quickly and I am rather proud of how much it has prospered,” said Eddie.

 “What kind of business?” asked Waylon, watching Eddie with a curious expression. Eddie looked away and took a deep breath, preparing for the ridicule that usually followed.

 “I’m a tailor. I own a clothing store, and we specialize in wedding dresses, tuxedos, and other formal attire,” said Eddie. He stared across the restaurant, waiting for a sarcastic or hurtful comment. When no comment came, Eddie slowly shifted his eyes back onto Waylon. To his surprise, he found his companion smiling.

 “I always wanted to learn how to make clothes. You can probably tell I like to wear my own kind of style, alternative, grunge, whatever. Every time I would try to alter my clothes, I just ended up destroying them. Mom would get so pissed when I would tear apart perfectly good clothes in an attempt to make something new. She was right though, everything I made was shit,” said Waylon. Eddie was shocked at Waylon’s honest interest in his trade. It was a refreshing change from the usual mocking attitude of others that found out he had a passion for wedding attire.

 Eddie was pleased that Waylon had an interest in fashion and design, even if it was not the style Eddie enjoyed. He did not have much experience designing or sewing anything like what Waylon would probably wear, but it was a good starting point for a conversation.

 “So you tear up your pants on purpose?” asked Eddie.

 “Yes indeed,” said Waylon, grinning. “These are the only pants I haven’t gotten around to adjusting. I do it on purpose, because it looks cool, but my mom insisted that I leave at least one pair of nice pants.”

 “Your mother is very strict with you?” asked Eddie.

 “Not at all! She gives me all the freedom I want, really. She encourages me to express myself through my wardrobe, but she just knows there could come a time when I needed a nicer outfit. I mean, like now.”

 The conversation began to flow much better by that point. They spoke of many different topics and there was hardly any uncomfortable silences. Waylon discussed his taste in music, his love of reading, and his obsession with collecting vintage bottle caps. He knew it was a stupid hobby, but it was something he enjoyed and it passed the time. Eddie was fascinated by the conversation. Even though they were discussing something so trivial, Waylon seemed very passionate and Eddie thought he might be catching a glimpse of what Waylon was like when he was not putting on any type of act.

 Their food arrived and they ate in relaxed silence. Waylon loaded his fries up with ketchup to the point that his hands looked as though he had recently performed surgery. Eddie pushed a napkin closer to Waylon, in case he needed it. He politely hinted that there may have been some leftovers on his date’s face.

 “You’re always so formal, even when you’re eating,” said Waylon.

 “Well, I always strive to present a good image. My mother insisted that I always look presentable, it’s a courtesy to others around you. My mother is a somewhat old-fashioned in much of her thinking, but she was always very warm and loving.”

 “Was there anyone else, besides your mother?” asked Waylon.

 “No. My father died when I was very small, and I never got to know him. My mother says we are very physically similar, but my personality is quite different from his. I never knew what it was to have a father figure growing up,” said Eddie.

 “Yeah, I didn’t either,” said Waylon. “I have some memories about my father. And not to be rude but, I would really rather not talk about them.” Waylon’s voice turned cold at the mention and his eyes stared at the table, as though he were remembering something. Eddie decided it was probably best to change the subject.

 “So how long have you know your friend?” asked Eddie.

 “You mean, Miles? Eh, feels like my whole life. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and we’ve always been close. He was my only moral support through some hard times and I owe him a lot. Sometimes he can be annoying and I wonder why I put up with him, but deep inside, I know he’s a great friend despite how difficult he can be at times. He definitely makes my life more interesting.”

 “I know that feeling,” said Eddie. Waylon smiled and it took Eddie’s breath away. He could look so innocent and young when he gave a genuine smile. Eddie was sure that Waylon was completely unaware that he was even smiling, and it felt good to observe him acting so naturally.

 Finally, Waylon grabbed his napkin and wiped his face and hands clean, leaving his plate of food empty. Eddie finished soon after, and he smiled about how quickly they had warmed up to one another.

 “Do you want to go anywhere else in particular?” Eddie asked when they were back in his car.

 “Wherever you want is fine,” said Waylon, shaking his head while looking out the window.

 The pair arrived at a nearby park and decided to walk around the lantern lit pathways. Waylon seemed distracted as he walked. Eddie watched him closely, anticipating what he would finally say when he broke from his thoughts.

 “Why did you ask me out, Eddie?” asked Waylon, stopping suddenly. He turned to look back at Eddie, studying his face.

 “Why, I wanted to see you. I asked for your number and told you that I would call you,” said Eddie. He had expected some variation of this question at some point during the night, especially considering their unusual first meeting. What he did not expect was how defensive Waylon seemed as he asked. Eddie took a deep breath, organizing his thoughts. He knew he had to be careful with his answers.

 “You didn’t have to do this. I’m not used to going out to dinner or anything like that. I liked having sex with you, it was a lot of fun that night in your car—but you don’t owe me anything for it. I don’t need you to feel obligated…”

 “I didn’t ask you out because of any obligation. I wanted to see you again, I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to see how you were doing, and go out with you,” said Eddie.

 “But…why? I don’t get it. The date, dinner, this galant attitude. This isn’t normal, and I just can’t figure out why. What do you want from me, Eddie? Are you making fun of me somehow? Rub my face in your success? I mean, it’s obvious you have a lot of nice things and a successful business, I could tell all that just by looking at you.”

 “Of course not. I would never do that to you—or to anyone. I don’t behave his way because I want to look or act superior to anyone. I asked you out because I wanted to see you again. I asked you out because I like you, Waylon. I like you…” said Eddie. Waylon’s eyes widened as he stared up at Eddie. As much as he wanted to deny it in that moment, it was impossible for him to ignore the attraction they both obviously felt.

 Waylon was usually very laid back with other people, but he found himself feeling nervous and full of doubts. He was not used to being taken out on real dates, much less spoken to so kindly and treated so nicely. He did not have a good record for healthy relationships. No one he had ever gone out with had treated him the way Eddie did, despite having only just met him. Waylon was far out of his element.

 “You like me, Eddie? Like, in a serious way, or just looking for a good time…”

 “No. I did not ask you out to take advantage of you and gain any kind of sexual favor. I honestly mean that. I want to get to know you better, to build something real with you. I know it will be difficult and we are still virtually strangers…”

 “We have nothing in common, Eddie. We are as different as can be. Isn’t there someone your own age or status that you could date?”

 Eddie mused for a moment about the words Waylon was saying and the childish pout on his face. Waylon’s eyes were full of questions and doubt. He reminded Eddie of an abandoned puppy that was lost and unsure where to run. Slowly, Eddie began to understand. Waylon had never been in a serious relationship.

 It was as adorable as it was sad. Perhaps no one had ever taken Waylon on a real date in the past. It would explain why he was so suspicious of Eddie’s behavior and why he was so insecure about where this could possibly lead. Eddie reached out and took Waylon’s hands in his own, shocked at how icy he found them. He quickly shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over Waylon’s shoulders before wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close.

 “No. There is no one else I want right now, except you. I am aware that we are very different, and that is strange. I know you do not know me very well, and you are right not to trust someone so easily. But please, I do hope you will give me the opportunity to earn your trust?”

 Waylon felt so warm in Eddie’s arms. He closed his eyes, leaning into the offered warmth, and inhaled the scent of Eddie’s cologne, filling his lungs with the alluring, manly aroma. He slowly glanced up, admiring Eddie’s handsome face and feeling unnerved by the intensity in his blue eyes.

 He hated that Eddie was so attractive. He hated the intoxicating scent, the inviting warmth, and the way that he felt so safe wrapped in those arms. He hated how close they were, and how helpless he was to push away. But being surrounded by Eddie maybe have been the most enjoyable sensation he had ever felt.

 “Then…you want to go out with me, again?” asked Waylon.

 “Yes. I would very much like to go out with you again. Then again. And again and again. I want you to meet my friends, even though they’re complete misfits, I want to take you home, or take you to the movies, or anywhere that you want. But only if you want to. I won’t force anything on you,” said Eddie. The smooth intonation of Eddie’s voice had a knack for making Waylon feel at ease. The way he could sound so smooth and gentle, while still sounding manly and powerful. It was an intoxicating mixture.

 The words were overwhelming. Waylon leaned in to rest his head again Edde’s shoulder while holding eye contact. Eddie looked confused by the reaction. He began rubbing small circles into Waylon’s back as he held him, noting how the action seemed to greatly relax the man in his arms.

 “Enough Gluskin, you’re going to put me to sleep if you keep that up. Unless that’s part of what turns you on. You want to take advantage of me while I’m asleep?”

 “I don’t need you to be asleep to take advantage of you, darling. I only have to touch your hips to drive you mad with lust,” said Eddie. Waylon was surprised at Eddie’s observational skills. It only took one night for him to figure out that Waylon’s hips were one of his most sensitive spots. He hated how that fact made Eddie even more attractive in his eyes.

 “Alright, Eddie. I’ll go out with you once, and then again, and then again. Until we get sick of each other,” said Waylon. The ringing laugh Eddie gave in response had Waylon smiling as well. It was a nice laugh and it made him seem so much more relaxed and attractive. Waylon had never felt like he wanted to date someone before, but it seemed natural to try out a relationship, considering how close had already become.

 Eddie stared into Waylon’s light brown eyes. He thought they were beautiful and he compared their color to honey. He was so lost in those eyes that he could not stop himself from leaning in to press a soft kiss to Waylon’s lips.

 “Really? You want to kiss me? Even though I sucked you off just a few hours ago?”

 “Must you always ruin the moment, darling?”

It was Waylon’s turn to laugh as he leaned in to rub his nose against Eddie’s chin. He could not get enough of his seductive scent. “Miles always says I manage to fuck up everything around me. So maybe you are into something,” said Waylon. He could not stop the intrusive memory that came to mind of Miles ensuring him that he would be hearing from Eddie soon. Waylon shook his head. “I hate how he’s always right…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claudy: Love is in the air (?). I had not intended to update yet, but the ideas are flowing these days. I decided not to miss an opportunity to let my muse run free. I even have a draft for the next chapter already written, but it needs further development when I have the time to read it while paying attention to the other projects I have currently. So I hope you enjoyed this, because you may have a slightly more distance update next time!
> 
> Pegacorn: I am working every day on translating more in between my other projects. I try to do it as quickly as possible, but I also strive to make it a good translation to do justice to this absolutely amazing story.


	3. I ain't got the power anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Waylon and Eddie begin to see one another more frequently, some of their closest friends get suspicious about the nature of these disappearances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I told you I would update in a thousand years? I lied. I can’t help it, my ideas flow so well. I have to get them out or they torment me.  
> In this chapter, there is a mention of Chris Walker. Remember, all the guys are good here, but Jeremy Blaire is a universal idiot apparently.
> 
> The song today is Quicksand by David Bowie, my favorite artist, and Mrs. Alma Park’s also (?)  
> This is dedicated to all the sweet people that made my weekend with the amount of fan arts and things that came out about Eddie. Did you all hear the audio Valentine special Red Barrels released with the voice of Eddie Gluskin? It was the best xD. (This makes no sense because it was during the post-February 14 day. Remember the story is originally in Spanish, this was the comment of the chapter in Spanish xD)
> 
> Pica, you’re an awesome friend I can share my madness with, this is for you <3 with love

Things progressed much easier than Eddie would have thought. During the week, Eddie and Waylon would date occasionally. They had gone to the movies, out to dinner, and even spent some time together at Eddie’s house. Thankfully, Frank was busy that week fixing things with his band as the date of their comeback special approached. The band had finally agreed to create a new album. As a result of their decision, Eddie obtained a week of tranquility, free from the presence of all of his friends.  
  
Not that he wanted to hide Waylon from his friends. Quite the opposite: Eddie wanted to say it openly, when they were all present, after things were a little more formal between him and Waylon. He was not sure how to categorize their current relationship. He preferred to be patient and allow the relationship to progress naturally.  
  
Meanwhile, Waylon had not mentioned anything to Mile—or anyone else. He had no idea how to broach the subject. It still sounded absurd to admit aloud that he was dating Eddie Gluskin. Both parties wanted to be sure about their status before initiating any discussion with their respective friends. They had only gone out on a few dates. It was still unclear exactly what kind of relationship was developing.  
  
Waylon became increasingly comfortable with the idea of going out with Eddie. At first, Waylon was unconvinced of Eddie’s sincerity and was surprised each time he came by to pick him up from his home or the supermarket.  
  
Eddie always put his best foot forward on their dates, being chivalrous and attentive at all times. He waited for Waylon to feel more relaxed and comfortable around him. What Eddie did not realize is that his mannerisms were actually having the complete opposite effect.  
  
“You don’t have to act so formal, Eddie. People are going to think you’re my father,” said Waylon as Eddie walked him to the car after his work shift one day. He smiled patiently as he buckled his seatbelt, at Eddie’s insistence. “Imagine the kind of explanation I would have to give if they see me making out with my dad…”  
  
Waylon’s comments never failed to elicit a surprised and offended expression from Eddie. He found it so endearing that he could not stop himself from brushing his lips gently against Eddie’s. Waylon made no effort to hide the enjoyment he got out of teasing Eddie.  
  
Sex was always a part of their interactions. Waylon preferred to demonstrate his affections towards Eddie physically. Eddie regretted that he was not able to harness his baser desires. All of his intentions flew out the window once they were both turned on. Eddie believed that as the “responsible adult” he should be the one to set limits, but his attempts just made Waylon laugh in his face.  
  
“Relax, we’re not doing anything wrong,” said Waylon, snuggling comfortably against Eddie’s broad chest. Eddie could not deny how much he enjoyed Waylon’s warm body against his own. There was really no greater feeling than snuggling together after an orgasm.  
  
A couple more weeks passed, and they continued to date. They had decided not to go out as much, agreeing to see one another during the weekend and some evenings during the week. It took some work to get their respective schedules to line up. Waylon worked early in the afternoon, but sometimes he would also do odd-jobs for neighbors, such as mowing lawns and painting to earn extra money.  
  
Eddie’s schedule was flexible, since most of his sewing creations were handled through order forms. He only needed to go into the shop for measurements, fittings, and to arrange the sample pieces on the shelves. Although his store was open, there were still many details to hammer out before it felt officially complete.  
  
It was Waylon’s day off. In the mornings, he liked to eat breakfast in front of the small TV on the kitchen counter while chatting with his mother as she finished getting ready for work. She  worked in a small vegetarian restaurant downtown, along with her best friend, Dana.  
  
Waylon always admired his mother’s carefree attitude. She was very confident, but also had a tendency to get distracted. She was constantly planning different activities with her friend. Age did not stop either of the women. Waylon did not realize that his busy, distracted mother was also acutely aware of every small change in her son. Waylon’s mood and wellbeing were always a top priority for Alma.  
  
“It’s a girl,” she said that morning as she left her room, staring at Waylon. “Hmm…no, it’s not a girl…it’s a boy! You’ve been dating someone for the past two weeks, right?” She wore a huge smile on her face that caused Waylon to choke on his breakfast.  
  
“Where do you get this stuff?” asked Waylon, nervously. He tried to distract himself by pushing his fork around on the plate. His mother was not fooled.  
  
“I knew it! I knew I was right. You’re dating someone—is he handsome? You’ve been going out more often, using the cologne I bought you for your birthday…Don’t think I can’t see what’s going on, Way.” His mother’s smile widened as she walked up and ruffled Waylon’s hair.  
  
“It’s not a big deal. Mom, seriously. Don’t make too much of this…”  
  
“Like I wouldn’t take it seriously! You haven’t been out with anyone in a long time. Even your face has changed…I just hope they’re a good person, Waylon. It’s important also to use protection, you never know what someone has been exposed to…”  
  
“Mom! What did I say? Don’t tell me things like that…” Alma Park was the only person on Earth that could embarrass Waylon. She was always open to questions, and happy to give detailed accounts from her youth.  
  
In a drawer on her bedside table, Alma kept a picture of herself with Waylon on her shoulders, holding up a poster at a large rally. She was an environmentalist in her youth, always fighting for Mother Earth and protesting against various wars and political problems. She had never given up her fighting spirit—in fact it was what Waylon admired the most about her. He had inherited his own free spirit and way of thinking from seeing the world through his mother’s eyes.  
  
“So? You think I can’t tell these things, Waylon. You’re going out more often, getting more phone calls. I still remember how before I had you…”  
  
“Please. I don’t want to hear it,” said Waylon. Alma had never been one to hide details about her life from her son. She preferred to keep an open dialog. She was happy to discuss any topic—no matter how strange or uncomfortable.  
  
They had talked about recreational drug use and the political and social aspects of sexuality. She knew and accepted that Waylon had a preference for men, though he occasionally “slipped” with a girl.  
  
“I haven’t heard about you dating anyone since…what was his name? Jeremy, I think? I never liked him—I hope this new guy is friendlier…and cuter. Remember when you tried dating Lisa?”  
  
“Yeah, Mom, I remember when that happened…” muttered Waylon. When he had first met Lisa, she had immediately made it clear she had intentions of being more than friends.  
  
Unfortunately for Lisa, Waylon had never been interested in a romantic relationship with a woman, though he had inclinations at times. Lisa respected his choice to stay casual, allowing him to set the limits to their relationship. They both managed to become good friends, even though their romantic relationship never progressed.  
  
“I hope you didn’t let her down too hard…”  
  
“Don’t worry, Mom. I cleared up everything. I’m pretty sure she likes someone else now,” said Waylon. It was strange how after they broke up, Lisa seemed determined to set Waylon up with a new partner. She was not the only one in their group of friends concerned with Waylon’s dating habits. Stella, Miles, and even his own mother were worried about Waylon’s continued refusal to seek out any kind of lasting relationship.  
  
“I’d like to meet this new man, of course. Would it be too much of a bother to bring him to the house at some point? I was wondering why my son was behaving so strangely these past weeks. I mean, just look,” Alma said, sweeping her hand around the room which was much cleaner than usual. Waylon’s tendency to clean when he was nervous had unexpected consequences around their home. He smiled as he took his mother’s hand.  
  
“I will bring him, okay? But don’t make a big deal out of it. Nothing is really official yet. Now, Dana’s going to be irritated if you are late to meet her…”  
  
——  
  
Meanwhile, Eddie frowned, staring at the mouth of Frank Manera as he devoured a piece of toast with jam and cream cheese. Eddie had planned to start his morning with a quiet breakfast. He had not expected to be interrupted by Frank. He was always showing up uninvited.  
  
“What do you say, Ed?” asked Frank, his mouth and beard full of crumbs, several dropping onto the table as he spoke.  
  
“I told you, finish chewing before you speak. It is unpleasant. Learn some manners,” said Eddie, holding his own cup of coffee and sneering at Frank’s poor table etiquette.  
  
“We haven’t seen you much these past weeks. You don’t want to come to rehearsals…Chris and Billy are worried. They think you’ve finally wised up and decided to stop being my friend. I told them that was ridiculous, you love me too much,” said Frank, sucking jam from his fingers and smiling as he pushed his sunglasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were hiding something…”  
  
Eddie’s eyes darted to the opposite direction of Frank, attempting to keep his face from betraying his thoughts. If Frank found out, everyone would know. The man was anything but discreet.  
  
“Stop spouting nonsense,” said Eddie. “The only thing that happened is that I have more orders and work than before, so I require more time for fabric shopping and taking commissions. It is nothing unusual. You should all be happy that my business is doing so well.”  
  
“We are happy for you, Eddie boy! But we still want to see you. Come on! Leave a night for us, next Saturday. It’s our first concert since the reunion. I mean, it’s only going to be at Trager’s club but still, it’s something. At least people will know that we’re back. Come on, what do you say? Maybe you could get lucky again, like the last time you were there,” said Frank, his grin widening as he adjusted his glasses again. Eddie rolled his eyes.  
  
“This weekend?” asked Eddie.  
  
“Yeah. No, wait, it’s next weekend…I think. It is definitely a Saturday, but probably next week. Just leave it open. I don’t take no for an answer, Gluskin,” said Frank. Eddie looked thoughtful for a moment.  
  
He did not have any concrete plans with Waylon past the current week, and those were all afternoon outings, and then Saturday night. They planned to spend the night at home, possibly watching a movie. Eddie just needed a way to get rid of Frank that day, so he nodded slightly at his friend.  
  
“Alright, alright…I’ll go. But you had better not abandon me there again…”  
  
——  
  
Waylon changed and headed toward Miles’ house. He felt bad that he had not seen his friend as much. He knew Miles was pining day and night over his crush and probably had not even noticed. Miles was trying to join the same association where Chris Walker worked as a volunteer—an organization devoted to the rescue and care of abandoned animals. Miles insisted on joining, despite his own criminal record of some vandalize he was accused of during a protest years earlier. Miles was quickly approaching stalker status.  
  
Waylon barely touched the knob before the door opened. There was Miles, phone in hand, staring at him with a confused expression.  
  
“Are you going out with Eddie Gluskin?” asked Miles. Oh shit. How in the world had that question even come up? Waylon momentarily imagined a gossip magazine with a headline about the last blowjob he gave Eddie on the front page.  
  
“Wha…why would you ask that out of nowhere?” asked Waylon.  
  
“Your mom asked me if I knew the guy who stopped by your house just a second ago. Are you guys dating? Why didn’t you tell me?!”  
  
“Because nothing is official yet,” snapped Waylon, “now, can I come in?” Waylon pushed Miles slightly as he walked straight into the house and toward Miles’ room. Miles was hot on his heels, typing impossibly fast on his phone.  
  
“Stop! Don’t say anything. I’ll introduce him soon…” said Waylon.  
  
“Now you try to say it’s nothing serious. I’m offended you kept this from me, Park. I thought our friendship was special?”  
  
“Shut up,” said Waylon. He sat down next to Miles on his bed. Waylon leaned back on his elbows as Miles typed away on his phone before finally setting it aside.  
  
“Okay if it’s nothing serious yet, why are you already introducing him to Mrs. P?”  
  
“Because she asked to meet him. You know I don’t like bringing people to our house, having them judge our home and lifestyle—not that I’m ashamed of it. I’ll probably wait a few weeks before I introduce him anyways…”  
  
“Are you waiting until it’s official? You want to be his boyfriend?” asked Miles. Waylon had not considered what kind of relationship he wanted with Eddie Gluskin. Spending time together felt good, and he found him amusing and very attractive. He also liked his hobbies and personality—even the way he was so proper and polite in public and private. Waylon smiled involuntarily at the thought.  
  
“I don’t know. Really, I don’t know which way this is going. I just know that I’m having a lot of fun. I like it. I think I like him,” said Waylon. Miles was shocked, but it was a good kind of shock. It was unusual for his friend to openly admit to his feelings for another person. Miles thought it was great news.  
  
Despite not knowing much about Gluskin, Miles knew from others that he was a good man, rumored to be responsible and boring. A man who would be able to treat Waylon with the respect he deserved. It was a great change from Waylon’s usual toxic relationships.  
  
“You should give yourself a chance, a real chance, with Eddie…” said Miles.  
  
“And so should you, with Chris,” said Waylon.  
  
“Those are different things,” said Miles. It was completely illogical the way Miles argued that he could not approach Chris. He’d been working on getting close to the guy for so long. He was obvious about it and most people in the scene had noticed.  
  
It was a long time ago, during a concert. Miles had been in a bad place due to several problems at home. It was common for him to fight with his mom, but that night, things had gotten particularly harsh—so much that he considered leaving home that week. He had no real place to go, knowing Waylon could barely afford to keep food in the house with what little he earned at the supermarket. Miles felt he had no way to escape, and no way to change his situation. He felt hopeless.  
  
Going to the concert had been a big mistake. The music did not help lift his bad mood. If anything, it aggravated the migraine he had felt constantly over the past few days. He decided to take a break from the noise. He needed to clear his ears, and his head. He sought refuge in a hallway where he could hide from the crowd.  
  
He had closed his eyes, recognizing the feeling of tears welling under his eyelids. It had been such a long time since he had cried. Many in his lifestyle saw any outward emotional reaction as a sign of weakness. Miles had always been jealous of Waylon’s doting mother. His own parents had never really cared for him.  
  
Miles’ mother was more concerned with her career as a reporter than being a mother. She spent most of her time away from home, always absent from any activities or achievements in Miles’ life. His father was an accountant in a boring office working long, tiring days, and coming home only to watch TV and sleep. He was never interested in discussing anything with his son.  
  
His father resented his mother’s success in her career. He took out his own professional frustration by trashing Miles’ mother’s career. He would emphasize the futility of working for such a large television network, and accuse her of being corrupt and lacking any accuracy in her investigative information. The week in question, the tension had finally caused the two workaholics to collide and explode. His mother screamed for Miles to get out. He did not need to be told twice.  
  
His disparaging thoughts were interrupted when he heard approaching footsteps. Miles looked at the newcomer. He was the drummer of the band that had played first that evening. He was a large man, stocky, but not in any way unpleasant. Miles had been fascinated by the way he played, striking the drums with strength and speed. Miles could not follow his hands—they were a blur. Miles had commented that he seemed more drum-machine than man.  
  
There was a large scar on the drummer’s face, spreading over his nose and forehead, reaching almost to the top of his lips creating a strange sort of “X” on his face. Miles noticed a couple of military dog tags dangling around his neck and assumed that he was maybe a former military officer. He looked young to be former military. Miles wondered if he had been discharged recently.  
  
The drummer’s face in the hallway was much different than the severe concentration he had shown on stage. He seemed friendly, relaxed. He smiled at Miles, which left him feeling confused.  
  
“Are you okay?” The drummer asked in a calm voice, taking a seat on the floor in the hallway next to Miles. He had no idea why this man was taking an interest, and forced himself to relax before he could answer.  
  
“Yeah, no big deal. Some problems at home. Nothing important,” said Miles.  
  
“If it makes you feel bad, then it is important, don’t ya think?” asked the drummer, producing a white handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to Miles. Miles scrubbed violently at his eyes, desperate to erase any evidence that he had been crying.  
  
“Hey, you’ll hurt your eyes using it that way, here,” he said, pulling Miles’ hands away from his face and reclaiming the handkerchief. He then proceeded to dab gently at Miles’ face with soft, tender strokes. The cloth was soft, and it smelled good. What the hell was going on? Why did Miles find this man’s hands so warm and comforting?  
  
“It’s no big deal. It’s good to let off steam. I cried this morning…when my mom showed me my father’s old military uniform. It’s good—it’s healthy. I think everyone should do it,” he said.  
  
“I think it makes you look weak. It’s not good for others to see that,” said Miles, automatically. He took the handkerchief back and wiped his eyes with less intensity than before, chasing the new tears that began to run down his cheeks.  
  
“I don’t believe that. I think it makes you strong. Being in touch with how you really feel. I think it’s a good thing to learn how to show emotions, even at the risk of a little embarrassment. I mean, would you laugh at me, if you saw me crying out there?” he asked. Miles thought he would never dream of laughing at someone like that man. Not only because he was intimidating, but because he was also gentle. Until that night, Miles had not known the two could be combined.  
  
“Why are you being nice to me? You don’t know me.”  
  
“Why are you sad? Everyone needs someone to talk to when you’re feeling down, and someone to laugh with when things are going great. You probably think I’m awkward…Well, I am awkward…and I’m nosy,” said the drummer. Miles did not know how to react to that. Somehow, it did not seem intrusive at all. He was friendly, open, and his presence made Miles feel good. Just being near the drummer seemed to help his mood. He  made Miles’ feelings seem important—and Miles never felt important. “So do you want to talk about what happened?”  
  
“Well…I…” Miles started, but he was unsure how to respond. The drummer seemed so interested in what he had to say. His attention was completely focused on Miles’ face. He met his eyes easily with a relaxed and serene expression. He exuded a calm that transferred to Miles. It was very strange. “It’s not…it’s nothing. It was just a stupid fight at home. Just something my mom said. It’s not really that bad…”  
  
“In that case, you should talk to her about how you feel. Maybe she can still make it better peacefully, without arguing. What do you say?” asked the drummer. Miles was quiet, staring down at the ground. He could feel his troubles fading, replaced with an intense desire to know more about the strange new man.  
  
“My name is Miles…Miles Upshur.”  
  
“Chris Walker, pleasure to meet you. If you ever need to talk or get something off your chest, feel free to find me. Anytime. I won’t even ask questions or say anything at all if you need. That’s a promise. Does that sound alright?”  
  
“Sounds good,” said Miles, giving a nervous smile. Chris smiled back, and Miles was not sure he had ever seen anything so beautiful. Straight rows of white teeth suited his face and made him look even more cordial and friendly. Miles stomach seemed to flip in that moment. Miles never forgot that meeting. He had kept the handkerchief jealousy guarded since then, despite the disapproval of his friends.  
  
Since then, Miles had developed an infatuation with Chris Walker. He started attending all of the amateur concerts in the area, no matter how trashy the venue, with the intention of encountering Chris again. Chris was big, gentle, and kind to everyone he met. The fact that he was able to be considered one of Frank Manera’s best friends attested to his tolerance for all people. Frank had the kind of personality that rubbed many people the wrong way, but Chris seemed genuinely happy to be part of a band with his best friends.  
  
Miles could not tell Chris how he felt. He was too sure such a declaration would be met with rejection, and the fear of that happening kept him from approaching. He was paralyzed with fear anytime he was near Chris, which only made him more afraid that Chris would think he was a weirdo or something. Waylon stressed time and time again that Chris Walker was not the kind of person to judge someone like that. He often repeated that Miles had much to gain, and nothing to lose, by simply talking to the man. Miles remained stubborn in his refusal.  
  
“You’re saying I should give Eddie a chance. Well, you should talk. When the hell are you going to tell Chris about how you feel?” asked Waylon, bringing Miles out of his memories and back to the present.  
  
“Don’t change the subject! What I’m saying is give this relationship the opportunity to grow into something real—something healthy. You need…”  
  
“Why does everything think putting a label on a relationship magically fixes things?” asked Waylon. Miles only smiled and shrugged his shoulders. They were both stubborn—it was part of what made them such great friends. Miles was dead set on the idea that he could never approach Chris Walker directly and his illogical fear kept him from ever trying.  
  
Waylon, on the other hand, had given up on the idea of a real relationship long ago. It was partially due to the abuse and other problems he had experienced with his old relationships. It had grown so bad he refused to even discuss relationships with anyone. The arrival of a man who could change Waylon’s mind about that was a miracle, in Miles’ opinion.  
  
“Well. I promise not to be so pessimistic and refuse to give the relationship a chance, as long as you promise that you are going to really work on talking to Chris someday, and telling him how you feel,” said Waylon.  
  
“…I’ll think about it, okay. I just need time…”  
  
The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. Waylon hung out with Miles, eating pizza and looking at stupid things on the Internet. Eddie managed to get rid of Frank and devoted his afternoon to organizing his outstanding customer orders, making a list of different materials he needed to purchase, and checking on his store.  
  
Waylon had to leave to get ready to go to Eddie’s house. Usually, Eddie insisted on picking him up, paying for most of their dates, and dropping him back off at his house. The gentlemanly behavior made Waylon feel like a girl more than anything else. Sometimes he insisted on being able to walk himself.  
  
He made up a reason to leave Miles’ house, earning a series of derisive comments and hissing laughter. He told Waylon to check the drawer on his way out because he had some hypoallergenic condoms for him to use. Waylon merely glared before they both laughed together.  
  
Eddie prepared his home for the date, always feeling like it wasn’t perfect. There were only a few unimportant things out of place, but in Eddie’s eyes, it was completely unacceptable. Everything needed to be perfect for Waylon’s visit. He was not sure why he felt that way. It was not like it would be Waylon’s first visit to his home, but that day felt different somehow. It was exactly one month that they had been dating.  
  
Although they had not agreed to anything formal, the anniversary of their first date still held meaning. Eddie knew from the beginning how interested he was in Waylon, but he could not freely admit how much he truly liked it, or how good it felt to grow their relationship. The more he got to know Waylon, the more interested he became. He was intrigued by Waylon’s rebellious lifestyle and strange view on different issues. He even had grown more accustomed to Waylon’s tendency to tease him at every opportunity. Eddie wanted to know more and more about him.  
  
The doorbell rang and Eddie rushed to answer it. There stood Waylon. He always looked cute—his clothes, his smile, everything. Eddie could not resist the immediate need to get close to him. He placed his hand on Waylon’s waist and pulled him close, leaning in for a long, lingering kiss. Waylon responded by sliding his arms around Eddie’s neck, hugging him. He smiled as he was growing more accustomed to Eddie’s affectionate way of greeting him.  
  
“Good afternoon, Mr. Gluskin.”  
  
“Don’t call me that,” mumbled Eddie in between leaving a trail of kisses along Waylon’s neck, keeping their bodies pressed close. “You brought luggage?”  
  
“Yeah, if you can let go for a minute I could explain,” said Waylon, grinning. Eddie reluctantly released Waylon who removed his backpack and sat it near Eddie’s couch.  
  
“I brought some things I wanted to show you, but they’re fragile,” said Waylon. Eddie’s face was a mixture of surprise and confusion, which only made Waylon laugh. “No, you old pervert, it’s not what you’re thinking. They’re some records that belonged to my mom. I have to be extra careful. She would kill me if she found out anything had happened to them. There were some songs I wanted you to hear, after we finish watching the movie…”  
  
“Do you know which movie you would like to watch, darling?”  
  
“Oh, are we really going to watch a movie?” asked Waylon. His grin only widened when he met Eddie’s disapproving stare. The two prepared for their quiet afternoon together.  
  
Eddie relented and agreed to order a pizza, even though he disapproved of Waylon’s unhealthy eating habits. Waylon paid little attention to nutrition. Waylon never had trouble convincing Eddie to agree to his plans. He had no qualms about resorting to whatever means necessary, and he knew all of Eddie’s weaknesses.  
  
The pair quickly finished their pizza while sitting on the couch. Eddie leaned slightly sideways and Waylon curled up on his chest, watching the TV. A pair of empty plates and glasses lay on the table beside the half-empty box of pizza.  
  
Although the movie was interesting, Waylon had trouble concentrating. He had too much running through his mind. He felt unable to understand everything happening in his life at that time. It had been a long time since he had felt so comfortable being next to another person, and even better because it was Eddie.  
  
Waylon felt safe and comfortable with Eddie, but he reminded himself everyday how completely different they were. No matter how secure their relationship seemed, Waylon was convinced it was temporary, like all of his previous relationships—like everything in his life, really.  
  
He stared at Eddie as they sat together watching TV. He could feel his hands against his back, comforting without being invasive. He wore a dress shirt that looked untidy after they had been laying together for awhile—a couple buttons were undone and his tie loosened above his neck. A few strands of his always neat hair had escaped and fell into his face which was relaxed, maybe even a little sleepy. Eddie looked casually formal, if that was a thing, and it looked very attractive on him. Waylon was not sure Eddie could dress casually if he tried. Eddie always looked too formal for any occasion. Though instead of turning Waylon off, it had the exact opposite effect. It had gotten to the point where he wondered if he wasn’t developing some kind of fetish. Waylon did not want it to change.  
  
Waylon finally allowed his head to rest on Eddie’s broad chest, sighing. He stared, trying to memorize every feature and detail. What if Eddie changed his mind about their relationship? By now he must have realized that Waylon could not provide stability in a relationship. He was young, stupid, and irresponsible, while Eddie was moving towards true adulthood.  
  
Surely, Eddie must have other concerns on his minds. Financial things. Grown-up problems Waylon could not even imagine. Maybe Eddie was looking for a wife, children, and white picket fence. Waylon had no place in that kind of lifestyle. The gloomy thoughts caused his posture to change as he shifted uncomfortably. He imagined Eddie in different domestic scenarios—none involving himself.  
  
“Is something the matter, Waylon?” asked Eddie. He gazed down at Waylon’s distressed expression and reached out to gently stroke his hair in slow, tender movements. Eddie always had a way of making it difficult for Waylon to speak freely.  
  
“Eh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking…”  
  
“What are you thinking about, darling?” asked Eddie. His low, even voice always had a way of relaxing Waylon. Waylon sighed and shifted his body until he was able to look up at Eddie. A large hand smoothed over his face as their eyes met. Eddie’s attention was completely focused on Waylon in that moment.  
  
“Eddie…Do you think this will last?” asked Waylon, keeping his voice low in order to hide the anxiety emanating from him in that moment.  Eddie’s attention was completely focused on Waylon. He tucked Waylon’s body close against his own, until they were lying face to face.  
  
“I want this to last,” was the answer, after a short reflective period. Eddie pressed his lips to Waylon’s for a brief moment, smiling gently as they separated. “Do you want this to last, Waylon?”  
  
“I want to meet your friends, and learn about your life,” said Waylon, slowly stroking circles into Eddie’s broad chest, then giving a half-smile, “…you know, I would really like to hear the story about how you became friends with Frank Manera. I find it incredible that you two are close friends.” Eddie seemed baffled by the unexpected comment. He did not consider the story of their meeting to be anything special.  
  
“It’s nothing extraordinary. Frank and I were classmates in school. We were in the same class, and he always had these strange quirks. He was eccentric even then. The teacher would scold him all the time because he never kept quiet,” said Eddie, smiling at the memory. School had been a good experience for Eddie, and he enjoyed recalling those memories. Waylon liked hearing stories of Eddie’s life, and watching Eddie’s face light up as he spoke.  
  
“I bet you were the teacher’s pet. You have all the earmarks of being a real tattle-tale, goody-two-shoes…”  
  
“I’m offended, darling,” said Eddie, as he began to detail all the interactions and stories about Frank and him growing up. Billy Hope and Chris Walker had attended the same school, and the entire group became friends shortly after Frank and Eddie. They had grown up together, forging a tight bond of friendship. The type of close childhood friendships that are rarely found. Waylon was reminded of his own friendship with Miles as he listened.  
  
“Once, we were going through some trash bin, and I put on some gloves I found in a drawer in my mother’s room. I was approximately thirteen years old when this happened. Frank said it was ridiculous, but I refused to go anywhere near a trash bin with my bare hands in case they got dirty. But it turns out, the gloves were the worst possible idea,” said Eddie. He shook his head, laughing to himself at the memory. Waylon had already guessed the direction the story would take.  
  
“My hands began to feel strange after a while—very itchy when wearing the gloves. I took them off, and it felt like my skin was burning. Red spots appeared, and kept spreading all the way up my forearm. I have never seen Frank so scared. We both ran to find my mother in the kitchen…”  
  
“Your mother was probably panicked,” said Waylon.  
  
“She had worked hard to rid the home of all latex to avoid an allergic reaction, but she had forgotten about the gloves. I remember Frank started yelling that I was dying,” said Eddie, having to pause as a chuckle bubbled forth he could not hold back any longer. His laughter was contagious, causing Waylon to join in.  
  
“I find it hard to imagine Frank Manera worried about anything. At least it wasn’t so bad. Can you imagine if you discovered your allergy while using a condom. You could have lost your dick!”  
  
“It’s not funny, don’t laugh,” said Eddie, unable to keep up a stern tone as he started laughing.  
  
“You two seem to have been through alot together. Ever been on like, a double date?” asked Waylon.  
  
“Well, not exactly. You see, there was this girl that Frank was crazy about, and…” Eddie cutoff in the middle of his sentence and a long pause followed. Waylon’s eyes never left Eddie’s face, but his hand had dropped down to Eddie’s crotch and was rubbing slowly through the fabric. A small smirk appeared on Waylon’s face.  
  
“What happened then, Eddie? Did you go out with the girl he liked or something?”  
  
“Waylon…” Eddie exhaled the name in one stuttering breath as the hand on his groin mapped out his growing arousal, the pressure increasing but the pace remaining slow and steady.  
  
“You both dated her maybe? Or did you have a double date with one of her friends?”  
  
“Yes,” Eddie finally managed. “I went out with her friend…hmm…Claire…”  
  
“Did you kiss her, Eddie? Did you put your tongue in her mouth?” asked Waylon. His hand on Eddie’s crotch became more insistent. He gripped Eddie’s length through his pants, feeling it harden under his touch. Waylon leaned in and began to pepper small kisses along Eddie’s chin and jaw, relishing the delightful sounds and reactions the simple action could induce. “Did you slip a hand down her shirt?”  
  
“Where are you going with this, darling?” asked Eddie. Despite his attempts to remain calm, Waylon’s touch was affecting him immensely. Even though Waylon was younger and smaller than Eddie, Waylon had no trouble manipulating him. It was far too easy to get Eddie hot and bothered.  
  
“I want you to get an erection whenever you think about these memories,” said Waylon, trying to speak in a seductive voice, but failing. He soon dissolved into laughter and removed his hand. Eddie did not know how to react. He began to stand up, fixing his hair and smoothing out his shirt.  
  
“It’s not funny…”  
  
“Of course it is! It’s really too easy. You’re too easy, Eddie. Then you try to claim you’re not an old pervert,” said Waylon.  
  
“I’m not that old,” protested Eddie. Waylon stood up and kissed Eddie’s frowning lips. Eddie tried to remain calm and keep from overreacting to Waylon’s prodding. He looked anywhere but at Waylon, avoiding his watchful eyes. It was difficult with Waylon practically hanging from his neck. Waylon would end up killing him one of these days.  
  
“Don’t get mad, darling,” said Waylon, grinning. “Do you want me to show you what I brought from my house? It’s something really nice.” Waylon moved quickly and dug through his backpack. He convinced Eddie to turn off the television and move a coffee table out of the room to clear an area on the floor. They sat on the carpet, facing one another.  
  
Waylon carried a couple of old records and a machine that resembled an old walkman only larger and bulkier. He delicately placed the machine on the ground and hooked up a pair of headphones. He leaned forward, holding them out toward Eddie.  
  
“Okay. Don’t think about anything while you listen to this. I want you to relax, feel the music, hear the words. Concentrate on nothing except the song,” said Waylon, moving the appliance to sit beside Eddie. He carefully placed the headphones over Eddie’s ears and switched on the record. The music began.

 _I'm closer to the Golden Dawn_  
_Immersed in Crowley's uniform_  
_Of imagery_  
  
_I'm living in a silent film_  
_Portraying Himmler's sacred realm_  
_Of dream reality_

The music flowed, slow and smooth. Eddie could pick out the sound of a guitar, maintaining a steady pace during the first stanzas. Waylon placed both hands on Eddie’s chest and pushed gently. Eddie slowly reclined until he was lying on the floor, and closed his eyes.

 _I'm frightened by the total goal_  
_Drawing to the ragged hole_  
_And I ain't got the power anymore_  
_No, I ain't got the power anymore_

Eddie concentrated on the last part of the song and could not keep his thoughts from wandering. He was accustomed to having power and control, at all times, in every aspect of his life. But things had changed. He felt exposed and vulnerable, but also fascinated and excited. Waylon probably felt the same way, having never had a relationship like theirs. Before, Eddie would have objected to most of the things he and Waylon had done together, but in that moment everything seemed clear.

 _I'm the twisted name_  
_on Garbo's eyes_  
_Living proof of_  
_Churchill's lies,_  
_I'm destiny_  
  
_I'm torn between the light and dark_  
_Where others see their targets,_  
_divine symmetry_  
  
_Should I kiss the viper's fang?_  
_Or herald loud the death of Man_  
  
_I'm sinking in the quicksand of my thought_  
_And I ain't got the power anymore_  

Eddie felt an extra weight on his hips. He opened his eyes and watched Waylon settle his body on top of him. Waylon was running his hands all over Eddie’s chest, and his eyes were different than before. His face was an enigma. Waylon’s eyes were serious, but there was a type of melancholy in their depths. Eddie could not fathom what could be going through Waylon Park’s mind in that moment.

 _Don't believe in yourself,_  
_don't deceive with belief_  
_Knowledge comes with death's release_

Waylon ended up with his body completely on top of Eddie’s as he leaned down to nuzzle his face against Eddie’s neck. His lips began trailing slow kisses along his neck. Eddie ran his hands up and down Waylon’s back, down his sides, and down to grasp his ass. The headphones were dislodged during the movements, and Waylon set them on the floor out of the way. As they separated for breath, Waylon gazed down into Eddie’s clear blue eyes that he hated and despised. Eyes that haunted his dreams.

Waylon loathed having to admit his feelings for Eddie, but it was something that could not be helped. Eddie meant a lot to Waylon. No one had ever looked at him the way Eddie did. No one had ever treated him so kindly. Despite all of Waylon’s faults, despite his checkered past, despite his lack of education, despite his poor economic situation, and despite all the ways that they were different from each other. How could something like this exist in the real world?

“Do you think this will last?” Waylon asked again, the song was still ringing in the background from the headphones. Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around Waylon, trapping him against his body, refusing to let go. Never wanting to let go.

“Yes. I think this will last. You want to know why?” asked Eddie.

“Why do you think that, Eddie?”

 “Because I like you—very much,” said Eddie before his lips began kissing all over Waylon’s face. His hand reached up to thread through Waylon’s blond locks. Waylon was who he wanted. The person he craved.

Defining a relationship was never easy, and Eddie feared he would get carried away with the situation. But he wanted to get carried away with Waylon. He wanted to enjoy their time together, learn more things about him, and explore things he would never imagine experiencing before. Eddie knew that he was no longer in control of the situation, and most likely never would be again. He still wanted it.

“I want to lose control with you, even if you call me old, or try to make me feel ashamed. I want to laugh with you, and I want you to confide in me about your day. I want to text you ‘good morning’ and also ‘good night.’ I want you to be irritated with my outdated mannerisms. I want to know all about the things you love, the things you hate…Really, I just want you beside me.”

“And what would we be then, Eddie?” Waylon asked, keeping his eyes hidden behind lowered lashes. The mixture of feelings in the pit of his stomach was something he had never experienced before. He did not lift his eyes, hiding his face. Eddie kissed Waylon’s hair soft, causing him to smile at the gesture.

“I want you to be my boyfriend. That is what I want,” said Eddie. The words seemed to echo in Waylon’s disbelieving ears. This man actually enjoyed his company that much? Everything seemed surreal.  
  
Waylon lifted his head, pressing his face close to Eddie’s. Eddie could feel his breath hitting his face, enjoying how perfectly their bodies fit together.  
  
“You want me beside you, Eddie? Even when I’m rebellious, stupid, insecure…even if I’m total crap at relationships…”  
  
“Do not say such ugly things, darling. Do not tear yourself down,” Eddie said, one of his hands coming up to gently cup Waylon’s face, pushing aside one of his unruly locks in the process.  
  
Eddie knew he would always cherish the expression on Waylon’s face during that moment. Even if Waylon left him sometime in the future, Eddie would never forget. Waylon was not the only one experiencing uncertainty at that time.  
  
“I am boring. Very boring. I think I would not have ever met you if it were not for Frank’s insistence, although I would never admit that to him. I can not understand why you would agree to go out with me or how you could let me get involved in your life. Sometimes I think you only stay with me out of pity…”  
  
“Don’t be stupid, Eddie,” Waylon blurted out, putting his finger over Eddie’s mouth to keep him from talking. He leveled a look of pure annoyance at Eddie, effectively silencing him.  
  
“So, I guess we are just a couple of people, stupid in love, huh?”  
  
“So it seems, darling,” said Eddie. Waylon sighed. He did not know anything about having a serious relationship. How hard could it be? Eddie looked at him expectantly. He took Waylon’s hand and rubbed his fingers gently, staring into his eyes. There was no resistance that time.  
  
“Then I guess I’m going to be your boyfriend, and we can see where this thing goes in the future” said Waylon.  
  
“Sounds reasonable,” said Eddie, grabbing Waylon by the hip and quickly moving him until his body was beneath him. He initiated a slow kiss and Waylon managed to throw his arms around Eddie’s neck. Waylon closed his eyes and got lost in the warmth and feel of Eddie’s body on top of him.  
  
Ultimately, they both lost control in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claudy: This makes me happy that everyone is happy xD. I have no idea where I get all these ideas really. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do :3
> 
> Pegacorn: Still plugging along in between other projects! This story is so cute!!


	4. Kooks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waylon’s life was full of difficult times, starting from an early age. He had developed a natural distrust of relationships, but his encounter with Eddie Gluskin has him feeling he may find redemption in this new relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and used another song by David Bowie. Shame on me!
> 
> I can’t help it, the man has a song to fit every situation. I promise that there will be more variety or artists and songs as the story progresses, since music is a very important element to this story.
> 
> This was an emotional week, thanks to various fics, so I had to update the story to have a bit of fluff in my life. Despite those intentions, I think I got an unpleasant situation by describing Waylon’s past to bring everyone up to speed on his life. The chapter focuses on his life before Eddie.
> 
> The song is Kooks by Davie Bowie. I recommend listening to the song while reading the first part of the story <3

Waylon was lying in bed, trying to sleep. He was afraid. Very afraid. He had no idea how to react or feel after the events that had happened at home that day. He could not block out the sound of his mother crying. It had been going on for days. He knew she was doing her best to cope with the horrible crisis at hand and the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm her. Waylon’s father had been gone for three days. He had taken everything.

Waylon shifted uncomfortably in his bed as he stared at the ceiling. His father had left behind a mountain of debt and the bank gave his mother a foreclosure notice. Waylon had to leave his home—his room. His life. Alma Park was wracking her brain to find a solution for them. She had to find a new place to live, and soon. She refused to allow her young son to suffer on the streets because of her.

Waylon was only eight years old at the time. He was young but already wise beyond his years. Alma did more than just provide nourishment for his body and a place to live. She also provided nourishment for his mind. Waylon was encouraged to read and explore his creativity. It seemed he had inherited his mother’s mentality when it came to trying new things and experiences.

Little Waylon tried not to mourn. He put on a tough face because he believed that a hard exterior was a show of strength. He did not want his mother to worry about him anymore. She already had enough problems without Waylon becoming a burden. Alma was working hard to scrape enough money together. She knew Waylon was aware of the situations. He could read the letters from the bank and had even researched what the terms meant. They were both in danger of landing out on the street.

Waylon’s bedroom door opened and, to his surprise, his mother entered the room smiling with a guitar in hand. Her hair was clean and fell loose down her back. Waylon had never been so confused.

“Mom? What’s going on?” he asked, hesitantly. He could not stop staring at his mother. She was always a vision to him with her long, golden hair cascading down her back and tiny wisps framing her beautiful face. The resemblance between the two was obvious with their blond hair, smooth faces, and shared eye color.

When Waylon was younger, his mother often dressed him in robes and garments that didn’t have a clear “gender” association. During that stage of his life, many of his friends mistook him for a girl. His mother had put a guitar in his arms at a young age, and Waylon had smiled from ear to ear. Waylon stared at his mother, and felt as though time stopped. He did not think there could be anyone more beautiful or perfect in this world. She had always fought for his dreams, and shared her vision of the world with him. She as a very unconventional woman, and Waylon was grateful for that.

_Will you stay in our Lovers 'Story_   
_if you stay you will not be sorry_   
_' Cause we believe in you_

His mother’s voice resonated in the room with the first lines of the song. Alma’s fingers were positioned above the strings, but the guitar had not been touched yet.

Waylon had no idea how to react as he stared in awe of his mother. He recognized the song from just the first words. It was one of Alma’s favorite albums she enjoyed listening to throughout the day while working around the house. Waylon’s heart skipped a beat at the image of his mother, smiling despite her own feeling of loss and sadness, and despite the hard times ahead.

_Soon you'll grow so take a chance_   
_with a couple of Kooks_   
_Hung up on romancing_

His mother’s voice, and the way she held herself, were the most remarkable things to Waylon. Alma Park had always been an idealist—a dreamer. They were a very unconventional family. Alma was a true activist, always out fighting for different social causes. She risked everything, including physical harm, to stand up for the causes that were most dear to her heart.

_We bought a lot of things to keep you warm and dry_   
_And a funny old crib on Which the paint will not dry_   
_I bought you a pair of shoes_   
_A trumpet you can blow and a book of rules_   
_On what to say to people When They pick on you_   
_'Cause if you stay with us you're gonna be pretty too Kookie_

Waylon felt as though he could cry at any moment. He knew his life would radically change following that day…but he knew that they would be fine. Waylon only needed Alma with him to know he would be safe and happy. His mother was strong-willed, but also gentle and soft. She was dedicated and loving to everyone she met, but especially her son.

Waylon had always been the light of her life. She encouraged him to be a free spirit, to pursue his dreams, and to never give up. Alma told him from a very young age that no matter what happened in the future, no matter what decisions he would make in his life, Waylon would always remain her pride and joy. She considered him her greatest achievement.

_Will you stay in our Lovers 'Story if you stay you will not be sorry_   
_' Cause we believe in you_   
_Soon you'll grow so take a chance_   
_With a couple of Kooks_   
_Hung up on romancing ..._

It was one of his most cherished memories of his mother. She had always told him she believed in him, no matter what he did or where they went. He had made many decisions at an early age, like quitting school to work in order to help with their desperate financial situation. Alma had been fulfilled the role of mother and father since the day his father walked out.

If he was honest with himself, Waylon had never seen his father as anything more than another body coexisting in his house. There was little to no emotional involvement between Waylon and his biological father. Waylon had always felt invisible to his father.

Alma had always put her son first, and all attempts to encourage a better relationship between Waylon and his father proved futile. Finally, the tension culminated when a young Alma walked into the kitchen and discovered their empty dining room. There was nothing left. Their life savings, valuables, and some household items had been stolen. Waylon came home from school to find both televisions vanished, and his mother sitting at the table staring into nothingness.

They had not been married—at least, not in a conventional manner. A small and very liberal ceremony had taken place in the gardens in California where they had both said their vows of eternal love before the astonished friends. There were very few pictures of the event, but if Waylon knew his mother, she had probably said their vows to the power and wisdom of nature rather than any religion on legal representative.

Alma Park did not believe in any man made laws or institutions. It wasn’t that she was against marriage in the sense that two people were establishing a relationship in front of those close to them. Rather, she objected that anyone needed a paper to confirm their dedication and love.

Alma married Gerard when she was in the second month of pregnancy. They had excitedly purchased a modest home together. It was filled with flowers, having a huge garden where they also grew some food. Alma craved the idea of living with her family and growing old with the love of her life. But she had been wrong.

Gerard turned out to be different than Alma had imagined. Financial problems began to emerge as soon as they settled into their house. Alma slowly came to realize that her husband was precisely the reason why his business was not prospering. She discovered, too late, that he had not only mortgaged their house, but also emptied their savings and investments. After he left, Alma and Waylon were in complete bankruptcy.

By the time he was eighteen, Waylon had experienced more than his share of hunger and misfortune. On more than one occasion, he had slept in the streets while waiting for their situation to change. Alma always fought desperately to protect her son from the real world. Waylon left school when he was only fourteen and sought out a job. He tried his hand at sales, bagging groceries at the supermarket, delivering newspapers, and mowing lawns for former neighbors. He was always trying to earn for his family—he did not want to be a burden.

Alma deeply regretted the decisions Waylon had been forced to make as a child. It was unfair that a young teenager have to make the mature decision to work in order to keep his family safe and fed. Alma never forgave herself. She blamed herself for Waylon dropping out and sleeping in shelters while she looked for a job to support them.

The house they rented for cheap was in deplorable condition—but it was better than nothing. Waylon went from being a lackey at the supermarket to a better paid cashier position—partly thanks to the kindness of the manager who knew his home situation. Waylon worked in the mornings, so he always tried to arrive early and made sure to never miss work. He could not afford to lose money they needed to pay off their debts and put food on the table.

Miles had been there for him, even during the worst times. He was always there to offer support, such as trying his hardest to cheer him up, offering to let him sleep over, bringing food, and always lending an attentive ear to his friend. Waylon felt indebted to Miles, and he never knew exactly how to react his friend’s generosity and understanding. Everything Waylon had seen of the world from a young age made him doubt that selfless people even existed—people willing to help without expecting something in return.

Waylon had seen his share of selfish people. Miles told him on more than one occasion that is appearance attracted the wrong people. Waylon purposely continued to encourage the wrong type of attention. He ensured that the only people he attracted were interested in sex—and only sex. He did not know any other way to relate to a person than through physical demonstrations.

Waylon realized at an early age that he preferred men, though he had occasionally slipped with women during parties. The club scene Waylon frequented led to plenty of indecent proposals, which Waylon welcomed. He began to see sex as a tool he could use to better his position in the world.

These risky behaviors were the main catalyst that led to his first meeting with Jeremy Blaire. The two met because Jeremy shopped at the supermarket where Waylon worked as a cashier. He was drawn to the carefree attitude of the handsome blond assistant.

Jeremy placed a small amount of bottles and groceries on the counter while maintaining a conversation on his cell phone. Jeremy’s conversation stopped abruptly as he stared over at Waylon who was obviously eavesdropping. Waylon blushed and gave an easy grin.

After that casual meeting, Waylon had not expected to see Jeremy again. He was surprised when he found him parked outside the store, blocking his path.

“Good afternoon,” Jeremy said as he rolled down the car window and flashed a smile. Waylon did not recognize him at first and squinted at the stranger. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Waylon. Waylon Park,” he said, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

“I’m Jeremy Blaire. It’s nice to meet you… Park? Was it? Look, some of my partners are having a meeting tonight. Would you like to accompany me?”

“That sounds fine,” said Waylon, slightly hesitant, “but why would you want to take a check-out boy from the grocery store? Don’t you have someone, I don’t know, more fitting, to invite?”

“I’m not sure if you are aware, but you are actually quite striking—some would say handsome,” said Jeremy. “I think it would be _fun_ to see what happens if I brought a good looking young man like yourself. Don’t you think so, Park?” asked Jeremy. The way he insisted on referring to Waylon by his last name made him feel uncomfortable.

Jeremy handed over a business card with his phone number and hand written directions on the back. The invitation had an air of formality, as though it was a business meeting. 

If Waylon was honest with himself, he found Jeremy very attractive. He gave off a professional, corporate look that spoke of money and the ability to buy the world. His hair was dark brown and his eyes were a strange shade between blue and green. His presence had a feeling of authority that intrigued Waylon.

Waylon did not like the way Jeremy looked at him—as though inspecting something he would like to purchase—judging him, and undressing him with his eyes. He could not remember why he had agreed to go through with the meeting, nor why he had tolerated Jeremy’s attitude during the evening. He even accepted an invitation to return the following Friday. The entire experience was new for Waylon.

During the many meetings that followed, Jeremy behaved in a very domineering manner regarding Waylon. He always had an air of superiority and treated Waylon like a possession—something that could easily be disposed and replaced. Waylon found it difficult to ignore Jeremy’s hurtful comments about his economic situation.

 _You’re the best of the worst_. It was a phrase that Jeremy liked to use to describe Waylon. He enjoyed bringing up in conversation how Waylon had grown up in shit and somehow managed to develop into a captivating, stylish, mostly attractive individual. Jeremy found it entertaining that someone so far beneath him was able to catch his eye. Waylon found it insulting, but he had no intentions of being with Jeremy long term. He had no way of knowing what fate had in store for him because of that terrible meeting.

Miles was against Waylon’s relationship with Jeremy Blaire from the start. He knew his friend’s defiant personality, and could not understand why he would allow someone like Jeremy to treat him so callously.

Miles could not believe that Waylon was so submissive around Jeremy, accepting his mood swings. Waylon held all of his previous relationships to irrational standards—but not Blaire. Waylon would never let anyone else talk down to him the way Jeremy did.

“I have to put bread on the table somehow, Miles,” said Waylon. “Mother needs help.” It was the only answer Miles could get out of his friend when they were speaking openly about Jeremy’s treatment of Waylon. Miles hated the idea of his friend selling himself to Jeremy Blaire to pay some bills and buy different necessities for his home.

“You shouldn’t do this. If you need money, we can find another way to get it, Way. Please…this is not healthy. You can’t continue to see Jeremy,” said Miles. Waylon was slower to answer his demands. He refused to meet Miles’ eyes, ashamed of how far he had fallen. He believed he had a valid reason for allowing the interactions, but he also knew that Miles was right.

“I have to go to work,” said Waylon before dashing off, leaving a worried Miles behind. He had another scheduled meeting with Jeremy that night. Waylon usually hated visiting the type of nightclubs and bars that Jeremy preferred—but he had insisted, per usual.

When Waylon arrived, Jeremy had on his ‘arrogant jerk’ expresion he wore so often. Waylon detested him, despite how young, handsome, and successful he was. His shitty attitude alone was enough to earn Waylon’s distaste, but he remained by his side because of the money. Jeremy’s eyes glanced up from his phone and noticed Waylon. A lopsided grin spread across his face. Waylon was immediately repulsed, but he forced himself to stay quiet, even as Jeremy slid a hand along his waist to pull him close.

“You look good tonight, Park. You always manage to do the best with so little,” said Jeremy as his hands continued to rub along Waylon’s waist. He was frequently pushing the limits—touching Waylon in ways that most people would object to in a public setting. Waylon did not really mind that, but he would sometimes reject the touches just to get some distance from Jeremy.

“Yeah. Whatever. I hate these places, Blaire. Why did you bring me here?” asked Waylon as Jeremy’s hand slid around his back and pressed lightly on his hip. Something about the motion gave Waylon a strange feeling, as though alerting him to some danger. He would always regret not heeding those instincts that night.

“Because I like these types of place, and I wanted you here—Okay? Now, be a good boy and keep your mouth shut,” said Jeremy. Waylon rolled his eyes but nodded. They met up with Jeremy’s “partners” who were little more than yes-men. They never said anything to go against Blaire, always smiling and laughing at every joke or comment. Waylon never laughed at Jeremy’s cruel jokes.

“Let’s dance,” Jeremy said, grabbing Waylon’s hand and practically pulling him onto the dance floor. Jeremy always said that Waylon’s clothes were shit, but he still liked to show him off around his partners. It was like some trophy he could show off to prove he had conquered someone as rebellious and young as Waylon. It was a very strange relationship.

“You want something to drink, Park?” asked Jeremy.

“A beer would be nice. I have work tomorrow though. I don’t want to drink a lot,” said Waylon.

“Always so responsible,” said Jeremy.

“As compared to you, who is always completely irresponsible?” Waylon asked in response. Jeremy brought back a couple of beers. The two continued to dance along with Jeremy’s associates for the rest of the night. It was more of an obligation to Waylon than any sort of pleasure.

As the night went on, Waylon realized that one of Jeremy’s partners had put something in his drink. Unfortunately, he noticed too late as he felt his body collapse on the seat of one of the couches. He could hear the echoing laughter of Blaire in the background as he faded out of consciousness. When he awoke, Waylon felt as if his body was completely numb. He slowly opened his eyes and attempted to shake off the headache throbbing behind his eyes.

He looked around in the morning light and attempted to discern where he was. He realized that his body was incredibly sore, and he was naked save a small burgundy cloth covering his privates. He then saw Jeremy Blaire seated on a couch in front of him, holding a cigarette between his fingers. The smug grin on his face remained imprinted in Waylon’s memories forever.

“Morning, Park. Did you have a good night?”

“What the hell did you…” Waylon’s voice sounded low and forced, as though it took considerable effort to form a word. His throat was irritated and raw. He could hardly sit up. It felt as if his entire body had been violated and he grimaced as he attempted to sit upright, his suffering clear on his face.

Jeremy seemed amused at his pain and failed to contain a cruel laugh. Waylon felt his anger flare though he felt completely helpless to do anything at that time.

“We just had some fun. I didn’t think you would mind. You’re always going on about how you like to try different things…”

“You drugged me. Why?”

“Your attitude can be very annoying sometimes, Park. I could tell by the way you were acting you might put up a fight about some of the activities we had planned for the evening. It’s easier to not have to tolerate your uncooperative attitude. And the condescending way you were speaking to me…” Jeremy stood up and walked until he was face to face with Waylon. He flicked his cigarette, showering Waylon’s naked body with ash and smoke.

Jeremy’s shirt was rumpled and unbuttoned, and he reeked of cigarettes and liquor. Waylon thought he would throw up just from the sight and smell of him—and the feeling doubled when he tried to imagine what might have happened the night before. Jeremy reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of large bills. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the bills onto Waylon while smirking and holding eye contact.

“You’re disgusting, Jeremy. You make me sick,” said Waylon. The sting of the slap to his cheek caught him off guard. He knew there was a red mark as he felt the heat spreading across his face. Jeremy’s face remained authoritative and he raised an eyebrow before pinching Waylon’s chin between his fingers and forcing him to look up into his eyes.

“You better keep that pretty mouth shut, Park. You always have to ruin everything with your shitty attitude. Think you can manage that one simple request? Take the money and get the fuck out, like the little bitch you are.”

Waylon did not need to be told twice. He felt horribly disgusted and ashamed as he gathered up the money. No matter how heinous the night before had been, the fact remained—they needed to pay the rent.

Changing his clothes was one of the most painful experiences of his life. Just what had Blaire done to him while he was passed out? The pain was so terrible he could hardly stand, but he still found the strength to get out of that hotel room as fast as possible.

He desperately hoped there were no photographs or recordings of the night. It wasn’t because he was ashamed of people seeing him naked or engaging in sex, but the idea of other people witnessing his defilement would leave him disgusted and empty. He hoped Blaire had enough class to have kept cameras out of the room.

“What the hell happened to you, Waylon?” asked Miles.

“Jeremy Blaire happened…” said Waylon. He sat down on the end of Miles’ bed after having bathed and changed his clothes. Anger and annoyance were clear on Miles’ face, but concern for Waylon won out above all other emotions. Miles had never witnessed anything like it before. Waylon looked terrible.

Waylon had no idea what kind of drug, or what amount, was added to his drink to cause him to black out so thoroughly. Miles could only listen to his friend’s story, powerless to prevent what had already happened. Miles hated privileged assholes like Jeremy Blaire out of principle, but he especially hated anyone that would hurt Waylon.

“You have to tell someone,” said Miles. “Waylon—this is wrong. They did this to you without your consent.”

“And what do I tell them, Miles? They’ll tell the police that I took the money,” said Waylon, frowning. “They’ll say that I often accept money in exchange for sexual acts. Who do you think the police will believe? What do you think they would even be able to do? Blaire owns half the city. Saying something wouldn’t achieve anything. It doesn’t matter anyways.”

“Fuck that, it does matter,” said Miles, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “This was rape, Waylon, of course it matters. We have to fight this type of bullshit—how can we ever expect a change in this kind of injustice for victims if we say nothing?”

“I’ve decided not to say anything. You don’t say anything either, okay?” asked Waylon with a long, defeated sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m not going to see Jeremy anymore, anyways.”

“And you think he’ll be okay with that? He’ll just let you disappear from his sight—just like that?” asked Miles.

“Well, he’ll have to get used to it. There’s no way I would ever willingly see that bastard again,” said Waylon.

After that day, Waylon had zero interaction with Jeremy. Waylon made it crystal clear that he would not tolerate that type of treatment ever again. He systematically refused every offer to see Jeremy again—not for business, or pleasure.

Waylon had to go to the doctor several times after that to get tested for sexually transmitted diseases. Luckily, he had tested clean. He was grateful to be healthy and thankful that every day that passed helped him heal from the traumatic evening. Blaire was upset that he had lost his personal toy, but he quickly found more interesting acquisitions to occupy his time. Waylon had been a fun experience, but they had both known from the beginning that their relationship was temporary. Jeremy would find someone closer to his station—and Waylon needed to stop feeling like an object.

Waylon had buried all of those memories in his mind for such a long time. He had no desire to remember his first serious relationship. Waylon had never truly been in love with anyone. Everything in his life was temporary—and so were his relationships. Waylon learned that if he cared too much about something, sooner or later, it would end up failing him in some way. He could not count on anything other than his mother and Miles. Everyone else wandered in and out of his life without affecting him—or so he had thought.

That was what made Eddie Gluskin’s arrival in his life so surprising.

Waylon had never considered being in a relationship with a romantic, loving person. It was very strange that he found himself in a relationship with someone that showed genuine concern and interest in his life. Did Eddie have nothing better to do with his time? The idea of someone liking him romantically was unreal. Waylon never put much stock in romantic relationships and avoided them at all cost. There had been others in the past that attempted to have such a relationship with Waylon, but none had been truly interested. The only person that seemed genuinely interested in him was Lisa, but he had rejected her since the attraction simply was not there.

Eddie’s way of seeing things was completely different from his. Waylon was raised to be relaxed and carefree. His life had leaned toward excessive partying and self-destructive behavior before Eddie arrived. After that, Waylon did not see the risks of that lifestyle as being worth the reward any longer. Waylon felt stupid to admit that Eddie was the one to break him from his bad habits. Somehow, the uptight man had managed to help him relax with someone for the first time.

Waylon never imagined finding joy in spending a Friday night at someone’s house watching movies and relaxing. He never imagined how protective and satisfying a pair of strong arms around him could be. He could not believe there would come a point when he wanted someone to come home and meet his mother. Enjoying casual walks with Eddie was a completely foreign activity.

Miles had always encouraged him to find someone that would treat him with respect. He had not approved of any of the previous relationships Waylon had engaged in with different people. Hearing that Waylon was in a serious relationship with someone had been wonderful news for Miles. Waylon recalled the way his friend had changed after Chris Walker had entered his life.

 _“I want to be a better person, Waylon. I want to be a better person for Chris. He’s one of the best people I know. I want to be better for him,”_ Miles had said, but Waylon had not understood what that felt like at the time. Chris and Miles were nothing more than acquaintances. They had never been able to speak in private since their meeting. Chris was always busy with his many jobs and charities. Waylon could not grasp the idea of changing for someone you barely knew. Still, Waylon was supportive of his friend and did not consider his obsession to have crossed into unhealthy behavior.

It wasn’t like Waylon wanted to completely overhaul his life. He was still smoking and keeping up his energetic lifestyle. The change was that he no longer considered accepting an invitation for a stranger for sex. In fact, since meeting Eddie, he had outright rejected several offers.

Waylon finally understand what Miles had meant. Waylon regretted having those darker aspects in his past. He was only eighteen and already tired of the that lifestyle. Perhaps it was a good time in his life to consider a change. Perhaps meeting Eddie when he did had been very lucky.

——

Eddie and Waylon stood for a long moment, staring at the door. Eddie squeezed Waylon’s hand tighter than necessary. Waylon could sense Eddie’s struggle as he considered whether to continue with the plan or turn around and retreat. Sensing his partner’s distress, Waylon leaned in slightly and left a couple of soft kisses on Eddie’s lips.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” asked Waylon, keeping his voice low. He slid his hand up Eddie’s back, kneading gently at his boyfriend’s tense shoulders. The word _boyfriend_ resonated strangely in his head, and he could not stop himself from smiling at the idea that Eddie was by his side—his partner—despite the odds.

“Yes. Yes, I want to continue. I am just a little nervous about this meeting,” said Eddie.

“If you don’t want to continue, _darling_ , I would completely understand. Maybe we can go home and do something fun,” said Waylon with a wink. The offer was tempting, as always, but they had made a commitment and Eddie took his word very seriously.

Eddie squeezed Waylon’s hand before walking up to the door and opening it. Waylon used all his self-control to keep from laughing at Eddie’s nervous face. He always found it endearing when Eddie was flustered. One might think Eddie was about to introduce Waylon to the Queen herself considering the solemn look on his face. In reality, it was quite the opposite.

“Eddie-boy! Great, you’re finally here,” said Frank, his volume unnecessarily loud as he beamed at his friend. Then his eyes slowly slid over as he realized Eddie had company.

Both Billy and Chris kept quiet as Eddie walked in, clutching Waylon’s hand tightly. He kept Waylon close to his body as if to protect him, though it was obvious Eddie was the one in need of comforting. His face wore the same expression he wore when he was feeling judged, as if he were about to do something dangerous. It was funny to his friends because usually something Eddie considered “dangerous” was just something small like buying cigarettes of liquor. He was always the most responsible in their group with his formal appearance and proper behavior.

“Frank, Chris, Billy,” said Eddie, clearing his throat, “I want to introduce you to someone special,” said Eddie, using a formal voice and careful annunciation as though he were making some important proclamation. Waylon clung to Eddie’s side looking relaxed and smiling.

“Guys, this is Waylon Park—my boyfriend. Waylon Park, these are the guys,” said Eddie. Frank’s responding laughter was sharp and loud. He had already managed to pull out his phone and quickly snapped a photo of Eddie standing stiff and formal as he introduced Waylon. As soon as the flash went off, Frank rushed in and squeezed Waylon in a tight hug while Eddie watched on in astonishment. Frank removed the hat he was wearing and dropped it onto Waylon’s head. The laughter from Waylon was unstoppable and infectious.

“About time you brought him to meet us! It was getting difficult to continy spying on you two. Wow, great catch Eddie! Welcome to the gang, Waylon,” said Frank. Billy and Chris seemed equally happy and were both joining in the laughter filling the room.

Despite his initial concerns, Eddie was pleased that his friends took kindly to Waylon. It was the first time he had introduced Waylon formally, as his boyfriend, to anyone—and he was happy.

Waylon did not have much experience with relationships, but he was happy that Eddie’s friends were so accepting. He knew it was important for people to have a balance between their romantic partners and their friends.

“Wait, what do you mean, spying?” asked Eddie.

“We have to celebrate! What do you like, new guy? Beer? Vodka? Whatever you want! The sky’s the limit,” said Frank.

“Do not start, Frank! If you behave this way, I will not bring him back,” said Eddie, frowning down at his friend as he pulled Waylon out of Eddie’s grasp.

Everyone laughed and began to celebrate. Billy never spoke, but he gave Waylon a definite thumbs up when he approached with a huge smile on his face. Meanwhile, Chris gave Waylon a very warm hug and congratulated Waylon on his relationship with Eddie. He would definitely have to tell Miles about that. Everyone seemed very welcoming and happy to be allowed to meet Eddie’s new boyfriend.

It was a strange situation, in a good way. Eddie and his friends were all very different with different ways of dressing, acting, and behaving—yet they all managed to get alone in spite of it all.

Maybe they were morons, misfits, and ultimately eccentric in their way of life, but Eddie valued their opinions. Waylon was relaxed and genuinely happy talking to Chris who assured him that Billy was not slow, but preferred to communicate without verbal interactions. All of the friends had learned to accept Billy’s way of communicating. Of the group, Frank was definitely the strangest—and the loudest.

Frank lived a fast paced life, always attending different events, organizing concerts, parties, and other celebrations. He constantly begged his friends to participate in his activities and never took ‘no’ for an answer. He was stubborn and prone to throwing tantrums that caused Eddie to always view him as an eternal man-child.

“No need to thank me, Eddie-boy—”

“There’s nothing to thank you for, Frank,” said Eddie, holding a beer that sloshed as Frank slapped him on the back. Frank was smiling wide though his eyes were hidden behind dark lenses.

“I’m the one who made it possible for you to meet this fine specimen! It’s entirely my doing that brought you two together. It’s one of the best things I’ve ever done, honestly. You should be damn grateful to have a friend like me.”

“No, you did nothing but leave me at the bar and went off with some unknown women. You left me alone all night, actually…” said Eddie, trailing off.

“Don’t worry. You don’t have to thank me. I know you love me! Don’t cry now, do you need a tissue?” asked Frank. Eddie merely rolled his eyes, turning from Frank to check on his boyfriend.

Waylon seemed so happy and natural around the group. Eddie felt a warm feeling stretching across his chest at the sight of Waylon laughing and looking comfortable. He would always remember the moment when he spotted Waylon across the room with Billy. Waylon was practicing a few chords on the keyboard thanks to Billy’s help and when he looked up and caught Eddie’s eye he smiled and winked. Eddie could not help but melt at the sight of his boyfriend befriending his childhood friends.

“Alright. You win this time,” muttered Eddie. “I guess good things can come around when you let go and relax from time to time.” It was unusual that Eddie would give in and praise his friend, but in this case, he felt Frank had earned it.

“He’s really cute. He’s stylish, he has an upbeat personality. Honestly, a very good catch, Eddie. Are you happy now?”

“I’ve never felt like this, Frank,” said Eddie. “I’m happy. Really…really happy.” The words did not seem sufficient to describe exactly how he was feeling. There was a warmth growing inside of him. Waylon filled him with a feeling he did not believe one could no feel so easily. Eddie was a cold person usually, since he had never found anyone that made him feel something akin to love in his relationships.

“So are you ready to admit yet, that I’m always right, and it’s thanks to me that you have this great boyfriend?” asked Frank. “I was right to drag you out to the bar.”

“Stop exaggerating,” scoffed Eddie. “You were right this one time, don’t oversell it.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, Eddie-boy,” said Frank.

The rest of the meeting continued at the same pace. Waylon finally settled next to Eddie on the sofa, slightly separated from the crowd. Frank warned them not to have sex on the couch, but Eddie struck down his joke with a severe look. His friends had practically stolen all of Waylon’s attention that night, and Eddie was craving just a few moments of closeness it him.

Waylon looked tired, but he remained in high spirits. He leaned against Eddie and rested his head against Eddie’s broad chest. It was quickly becoming Waylon’s favorite place to rest. Eddie’s hands began a slow massage on Waylon’s back and neck, coaxing soft relaxing sounds from Waylon’s lips.

“You’re having fun, Way?”

“They’re all really nice to me. They are crazy, and eccentric, like you, Eddie…I like them a lot actually.”

Eddie kissed Waylon’s forehead and hair, cradling Waylon as he pulled him tightly against his chest. The body heat from Eddie always managed to help Waylon relax. He often struggled to stay fully awake when subjected to it. His eyes seemed to close on their own as soon as he was enveloped in Eddie’s arms.

“Do you want a ride home?” asked Eddie.

“No, I want to stay here. You’re a good pillow,” said Waylon.

“Really? Well, at least I always have a back-up job now…”

“Yeah, if your business with the wedding dresses doesn’t work out, you can always rent yourself out as a human pillow—though I’m not sure I would allow it. You’re my pillow. Only mine,” said Waylon. Eddie felt himself swelling with emotion at the words. Anytime Waylon showed affection toward him, he could not repress his natural urge to go in and kiss his face, smiling as Waylon’s eyes fluttered open slightly from the small kiss.

“Are you aware that you have the type of face that needs to be kissed thirty—or forty—times a day?” asked Eddie.

“Are you aware that you are incredibly corny, Gluskin?” asked Waylon with a sleepy smile. Eddie aimed another onslaught of kisses, mindful not to move much and disturb Waylon’s comfortable position beside him.

“I’m glad you liked my friends. I think they might like you even more than they like me…”

“Oh please. It’s because I’m not as stuffy and old as you, Eddie. Everyone loves me so…”

“You definitely seemed to already have bewitched Frank,” said Eddie with a sly grin on his face as his hands came dangerously close to Waylon’s sides. “I’ll have to take action to keep you from straying.” Waylon had the distinct disadvantage of being a very sensitive person. He was practically squirming under Eddie’s insistent tickle attack and was unable to keep from laughing and crying out for a truce.

“No! No, Eddie! Stop, please! This is not fair, you’re stronger!” Waylon managed through the laughing. Despite his supplications, Eddie did not let up, moving his hands all over Waylon’s torso without giving him any opportunity to escape. After a brief pause, they ended up facing one another as they caught their breath. The adorable blush on Waylon’s cheeks caused Eddie’s breath to catch. He always cherished the moments when he could witness that affected expression on Waylon’s face.

“Really…I like you a lot,” said Eddie after a brief period of silence. He began to kiss Waylon’s lips gently, enjoying the way they immediately responded to his touch. He loved the idea of being openly accepted as a couple. It was impossible not to get lost in that feeling.

Perhaps it was completely crazy—but even if it were, they were both in this madness together. And going crazy together did not sound like a bad idea at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claudy: Jeremy Blaire is the universal corporate idiot in the entire Outlast universe. He’s the character we all love to hate. I was laughing stupidly while writing this. I needed something nice like this in my life. I hope you liked read it as much as I liked writing this story!
> 
> Pegacorn: I am still working on this as I find the time because it’s amazing and EdWay snuggles sustain me!


	5. Do You Want To?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie takes a big step: meeting Mrs. Park. He had never been more nervous, though everything in his relationship was swimming along nicely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed writing this fic and needed more fluff in my life!
> 
> Fair warning that this chapter delves into sexy times again. It’s an important part of their interactions, and always present in their relationship. 
> 
> The song this time is another of my favorite bands from my youth, “Do You Want To” by Franz Ferdinand.

**_Well I woke up tonight and said I  
_ _I'm gonna make somebody love me  
_ _I'm gonna make somebody love me  
_ _And now I know, now I know, now I know  
_ _I know that it's you_**  
**You're lucky, lucky, you're so lucky!**  
**—Franz Ferdinand**

 

Everything had gone better than expected.

Eddie’s friends had accepted Waylon, and quickly warmed up to him. He brought a positive energy to their lives. Waylon was always laughing and playing band instruments with the help of Billy and Chris. The two band members had developed a paternal attitude toward their new friend, and started inviting him to all of their meetings. Eddie was thrilled to witness the new interactions.

At the time, Eddie thought he was the lucky one. His physical attraction to Waylon was not a secret. Eddie did not bother trying to contain his desire to kiss and show affection to Waylon, despite the comments and jokes from Frank Manera. The physical attraction was powerful, but more than that, Eddie felt attracted to Waylon’s personality. The way he could bring a smile to anyone’s face with his irreverent behavior. Everything between them was spontaneous and new.

Eddie never imagined that two such different people could get along so well. Against all odds, their opposite personalities complimented one another. Eddie internally thanked all the factors that led him to meeting Waylon at the club that night. He could not help but chuckle remembering Waylon’s reaction the first time he had called after their first night together. Eddie smiled over at Waylon, sprawled across Eddie’s couch, and found him even more adorable than usual. He assumed it was all of his deeper emotions that made Waylon look so irresistible.

“Why are you smiling so much, old man?” asked Waylon, absentmindedly searching through his backpack. The sleeves of his black and white striped shirt were longer than his arms, covering his fingertips. It further promoted his look of childish innocence.

“Nothing special, darling. Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you,” said Eddie.

“You’re thinking about that while staring at my ass? Seriously, you are a pervert…”

Eddie rolled his eyes, staring back down at his business appointment book lying open on his lap. Waylon began to struggle to put his hand down the pockets of his skin tight jeans. After a bit of wrangling, Waylon managed to pull a small package out of his pocket. The sound of crinkling cellophane filled the silence of the room as Waylon  struggled to open the package,

“What are you doing, darling?”

“Just something Miles gave me this morning,” said Waylon, smiling as he pulled out a red candy ring and slipped it on the ring finger of his left hand. “You know, this would be a pretty stupid way to propose to someone…”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at the comment and his dark rimmed glasses slipped down his nose. “Have you and Miles ever…”

“Oh, God, no!,” said Waylon. “That would be gross, like making out with my brother. We’ve been friends for so long, it’s a horrible thing for me to even consider,” said Waylon as he held out his hand, admiring the ring before a grin crept onto his face. “Besides, Miles is too obsessive. I couldn’t stand watching him dig through my trash.”

Eddie gave a soft chuckle before returning his attention to his appointment book. Waylon was distracted as he admired the candy ring, wiggling his finger like a child to admire the way the light played off the sugar. Eddie needed to call some customers and inform them that their orders were delayed and would not be ready until Friday. He also needed to make an overdue call to his mother. That was the call Eddie feared the most.

“Mrs. Jones? Good afternoon. I’m calling to let you know that your dress will not be ready until later this week. I was hoping we could schedule a fitting for any necessary adjustments once the garment arrives?” asked Eddie over the phone. Waylon always admired the voice Eddie used when talking on the phone with customers. He spoke so soft and deep, almost like he was seducing the person--taking advantage of his attractive voice to milk more cash out of his female customers. Eddie had acted offended when Waylon had told him that, though.

“Friday? I will be taking care of orders until four o’clock. Could you come in during the afternoon?” asked Eddie. Waylon could not look away. He initially wanted to make fun of Eddie for needing such thick reading glasses, but the image of Eddie in his glasses was anything but pathetic. They made Eddie look even sexier, inadvertently arousing Waylon’s interest. The air of a businessman suited Eddie, and held enormous appeal to Waylon. Eddie’s proper clothing, and his professional manner of speaking, was irresistible to Waylon.

Eddie held the phone under his chin as he wrote some notes in his appointment book. When his eyes finally lifted from his ledger, he stopped and stared at his boyfriend. Waylon started to lick at his candy ring slowly, keeping his eyes on Eddie the entire time. He parted his lips and rolled his tongue over the entire candy jewel, wetting every inch of the sugar before starting with a new series of slow, concise movements. Eddie swallowed hard.

“Alright, you are confirmed for Friday, Mrs. Jone. Thank you,” said Eddie, fighting to keep his voice unaffected during Waylon’s shameless display. Waylon continued his slow seduction as his lips slowly wrapped around the candy until it was engulfed in his mouth—then he sucked. Eddie was on him in an instant, and Waylon could not contain a smug grin from appearing.

“You love it, don’t you?” asked Eddie, positioning himself over Waylon. He leaned in to sniff Waylon’s hair while sliding his hand down the side of his hips.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Edward. I was just calmly eating my ring pop—nothing out of the ordinary here,” said Waylon, his voice full of feigned innocence. Eddie lifted Waylon’s shirt and trailed his fingers along his narrow waist as he leaned in and began to dot Waylon’s neck with soft, fleeting kisses.

“You love me wanting you,” said Eddie, his lips against Waylon’s throat as he spoke. “You do things to distract me—to _provoke_ me.” Eddie’s lips moved to Waylon’s ear and he nibbled slightly on his lobe as his hands slid under Waylon’s shirt, reaching his sensitive nipples. The moans and gasps his actions elicited from his sensitive lover were music to his ears.

“It’s not my fault that you’re so easily distracted,” said Waylon. Eddie pressed his weight down on Waylon, publicizing the hardness between his legs. The aggressive movement was tempered with a series of gentle kisses along Waylon’s shoulders as Eddie fought to remove Waylon’s shirt—needing access to more of his skin.

Waylon knew that Eddie could not resist even his slightest provocation in private. Waylon often embarrassed him in public with his inappropriate behavior, as well, causing Eddie to jump him as soon as they walked into the house. Waylon loved being able to drive Eddie to such needy, dominating behavior.

“Blame you glasses. You look too good in them. They’re becoming my new fetish,” said Waylon, grinning.

“Then my devious plan has worked,” said Eddie. It was probably stupid to admit his intentions out loud, but Eddie had been extremely anxious that Waylon might not find his glasses attractive. He needed them to read some things, but they were not something he used daily. He felt like a pervert admitting how thoroughly he had enjoyed his sexlife over the past months. He felt free with Waylon--something he had never believed possible with previous partners. Eddie was allowed to be rough—to be himself. He struggled with the urge to mark every part of Waylon’s body, enjoying the soft, fleshy skin under his incisors.

Eddie’s hands could not stay still at that point. They ran up and down Waylon’s chest and hips, his movements growing firmer and more insistent. He took Waylon’s chin in his hand and leaned in to finally kiss his lips.

Mmm…Waylon’s lips tasted like cherries. Eddie’s other hand quickly sought out Waylon’s fly and began opening his pants. Waylon pressed the candy against Eddie’s lips, grinning as Eddie licked it thoroughly and pulled away with a loud slurp.

“You look good, babe. Nice to see you sucking on something for a change…” said Waylon.

“Always so vulgar,” said Eddie. The candy was forgotten on the table after that. Both men focused on devouring the others’ lips, tasting the sweetness there and driving them both wild with desire. Eddie finally managed to pull down Waylon’s jeans and ran his hands over his buttocks, enjoying the soft feeling of his flesh, still covered by the dark fabric of his boxers.

Waylon’s moans were unexpectedly loud. He cursed at the feeling of Eddie’s hands mapping out his increasingly hard erection. Eddie pressed his face into the skin of Waylon’s neck, breathing in his scent, allowing his lips to trail kisses up to his chin.

“I have to be careful not to leave any marks on you, since we’re visiting your mother soon,” said Eddie.

“Wait…did you just mention my mother, while grabbing my dick?” asked Waylon, irony thick in his tone. Eddie’s face went hot and he immediately regretted the untimely declaration. “That was one of the most discouraging comments I’ve ever heard before sex. Oh, no, wait, that was the latex condom comment…”

“I think we both have a tendency to ruin intimate moments with our comments, darling…”

“You have a point.”

The longer they were together, the more they became accustomed to one another. Their different hobbies, opposing attitudes, and penchant for making out of place comments no longer negatively affected their mood. Eddie resumed his actions, his hand pumping up and down on Waylon’s erection through the fabric of his underwear. Waylon tilted his head back and spread his legs wider, allowing Eddie better ease of movement. Waylon hissed when Eddie bit into the skin on his shoulder.

“You usually mark me so much someone on the street might think I was already the victim of another rape,” said Waylon.

“Now who’s saying inappropriate things that ruin the mood,” muttered Eddie, before putting his tongue to more interesting uses. He pushed his tongue between Waylon’s lips as he accelerated the pace of his movements. Eddie did not pause, not wanting to allow Waylon even a moment to chance to catch his breath.

Soon, Waylon’s black boxers had fallen to the top of his thighs and Eddie began the slow, deliberate task of preparing his lover for further pleasure. Eddie was always especially gentle during that part of sex, never wanting Waylon to feel any discomfort. He was generous with the lubricant, ensuring every inch of Waylon’s most intimate areas were comfortable. Waylon no longer made any mocking comments about Eddie’s insistence on the tender preparations. Usually, they both ended up thoroughly enjoying the process.

Waylon tried to crane his neck to get the best view of Eddie, concentrating with his glasses still perched on his nose. Eddie sensed his intentions and removed his fingers, firmly grasping Waylon’s hips and flipping him until they were facing one another. A wide grin spread across Eddie’s face at the sight of Waylon, flushed and panting.

“You’re aching for me to fill you, aren’t you darling?” asked Eddie, admiring the breathless, flustered expression on Waylon’s face. He pressed his thumb gently against Waylon’s parted lip, savoring every aspect his reaction.

“Shut up and do it already,” said Waylon, only causing Eddie’s smile to spread wider as he reached down and began to undo his own pants. He started to remove his glasses, but Waylon stopped him with a firm grip on his wrist. “Don’t you dare. The glasses stay.”

Eddie obeyed the order and leaned over, slowly, until his eyes were level with Waylon’s beneath him. He slowly lowered his slacks and underwear until his entire length was exposed. Eddie lifted Waylon’s legs and positioned them on either side of his hips. The first penetration was always a rush, leaving both men gasping from the power of it. Eddie could not avoid giving a throating groan of satisfaction as he pressed into his lover.

Waylon closed his eyes for a brief moment and let his head rest on the back of the couch. Having Eddie inside of him was one of the most addictive feelings Waylon knew, though he felt like a pervert even admitting it to himself. Eddie lifted him slightly, adjusting their bodies until they were comfortable. Waylon assisted by putting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder to help support himself. The invasive feeling of Eddie always caused multiple reaction in his body, drawing a string of sensuous sounds from Waylon that provided Eddie with all the incentive he needed to push deeper.

Eddie’s thrusts increased at a gradual pace and his clothing left several marks where it rubbed  against Waylon’s chest. A white dress shirt was practically a permanent garment for Eddie, and it had grown wrinkled and dotted with sweat from the heat of the moment. The hair of both of the men fell haphazardly over their faces, getting in the way as they continued to kiss one another.

Waylon had always considered himself a very sexual person. He was more than willing to explore every aspect of Eddie’s sexuality. Eddie was enthusiastic about finally having a willing partner to accommodate his requests. He no longer had to worry about how “improper” his sexual appetites may seem to some people. The two had definitely done it in the back of the car, again, in various parking lots around town.

“You’re such a pervert,” said Waylon, moaning as Eddie’s lips traveled along his chin. Eddie’s hands gripped Waylon’s hips as his movements grew more urgent and rapid. Eddie slowly gave over control to the need to take Waylon hard and fast. He felt himself throbbing as he reached one hand between them to grip Waylon’s cock. The touch drew out an unexpectedly loud moan from Waylon’s lips.

“You say I’m a pervert, darling, but you’re the one that enjoys being treated like a whore,” said Eddie. He no longer censored his words or comments, no matter how improper. It was liberating to ignore all of the other rules he imposed on himself during sex, and instead really explore his sexuality. They both enjoyed pushing the parameters of what they could say and do with one another. Eddie had no idea how he had managed to find someone he could connect with on such an intimate level, but he was not about to let the opportunity go to waste. Intimacy with Waylon was the most exciting thing Eddie had experienced in his entire life.

Both men were quickly reaching their climax. Eddie closed his eyes helplessly, dropping his chin to his chest as he focused on sliding his hand up and down along Waylon’s shaft.

Waylon’s nails managed to push through the material of Eddie’s white shirt and scratch small gouges into the skin of Eddie’s back. Waylon clawed and writhed, pushing to meet Eddie’s hips. The sensation of Eddie’s seed flooding him with heat caused Waylon to come immediately.

“Ah…I love it when you fuck me like that,” said Waylon, his voice halting as he fought to catch his breath. He ran one of his hands through the untidy tufts of Eddie’s hair that had fallen out of place.

Eddie smiled as he withdrew from Waylon and laid on his side, wrapping an arm protectively around his lover. The feeling of holding Waylon in the warm bliss following sex had become an everyday experience, but Eddie never grew tired of it. The softness of Waylon’s body against his; his warmth, his smell—everything was perfect, regardless of whatever crass comments Waylon made.

“Do you realize that we have been fucking almost daily?” asked Waylon. His voice was weary as he settled lightly on Eddie’s chest. He let out a soft sigh as he was immersed in Eddie’s aroma that was so masculine and comforting to Waylon. He was so relaxed, he could have stayed in that position for the rest of the afternoon. “I’m surprised you can take the pace, to tell the truth, Ed…”

 “I know,” said Eddie, “between all the medications I have to take because of my old age, and all my elderly ailments, I don’t know how I found the time to catch a sexy eighteen year old boyfriend.” Waylon laughed and placed a light kiss to Eddie’s lips before returning to his reclined position. They remained there for several minutes, resting and recovering with one another.

“So, Mr. Gluskin, how do you feel now that you are about to meet my mother, today?”

 “Nervous, really…but I am glad it is happening. I hope your mother does not take away a bad impression of me, darling…”

 “That’s the least you should worry about. My mom likes everyone! She’s a really welcoming person with a warm personality and an open mind. Besides, where do you think I get my rebellious attitude?” Waylon grinned and Eddie could not help but smile at his mental image of Mrs. Park with her young son. Eddie knew that Waylon shared many of his looks with his mother, having seen some of Waylon’s baby pictures. The resemblance was remarkable—as though Waylon were the male version of his mother.

 “Should I wear something special? Maybe I should bring a dessert, or something, I’m not quite sure what your mother would prefer in regard to visitors…”

 “Anything you do is going to be fine, Eddie. Don’t worry. My mom is really happy we’re having this dinner. She asked me to give her house a thorough cleaning yesterday. No doubt she’s giving the furniture another pass before we get there. She’s a bit obsessive compulsive about these things…”

 Eddie looked thoughtful for a moment. Alma Park was not the only one obsessive compulsive in that regard. Eddie knew he would probably spend the rest of the afternoon mentally preparing for the dinner. He would worry about doing something rude, like arriving late or empty handed, when he met Mrs. Park.

 Eddie would not pass up the opportunity to get close to the mother of his boyfriend. It was important to him that Waylon’s mother knew that Eddie was treating her son right. Waylon was unconcerned with the details of the dinner. He knew that his mother was over the moon just at the simple fact that Waylon was finally in a formal relationship.

 Waylon took Eddie’s glasses before standing up and collecting their discarded clothes. His body was a mess from their activities. He needed to go home, shower, and deal with Miles. That’s when he got a brilliant idea. He smiled and  turned toward Eddie, still dazed after their romp, and probably worrying about the meeting that evening.

 “Eddie, remember when you said you’d do something for me? Like, a favor? I don’t need anything right now, but I just thought of something…”

* * *

 

Waylon quickly made his way to Miles’ house. He had brought a bag with a change of clothes and toiletries. He did not want his mother to see him looking so messy. He hurried to clean himself as quickly as possible. His hair was still wet when he sat on Miles’ bed. He sat near the window to help vent some air as he lit a cigarette. It was already the second cigarette he had smoked that afternoon.

“Did you have sex with Eddie before coming here, Park?” asked Miles, crossing his arms over his chest and putting on a face of mock disgust. Waylon grinned before releasing the smoke slowly. Miles knew that Waylon had a tendency to smoke more after sex. After Waylon’s “relationship” with Jeremy, Waylon had smoked an entire pack the following day.

“We have sex almost every day. It’s incredible…” said Waylon.

 “Blessed art thou whom get laid on the regular, but…don’t you think it’s kind of rude, leaving your mother to prepare the whole dinner alone?” asked Miles.

 “She’s got Samantha to help with that. She’s an expert in preparing dishes—she had a restaurant for a while. They’re putting too much effort into it, really...”

 “It’s the first time you have ever brought a boyfriend home to meet your mom. It’s normal that she would be enthusiastic, Way.” Miles had a point, and Waylon had to nod in agreement. Waylon had never been the kind of person to take a date home, especially since his dates tended to be strangers he only knew for a few hours. It made sense that his mother would be nervous about finally meeting someone that meant something to Waylon.

 “How did it go the other day, by the way?” asked Miles. “We never got to talk much about your meeting with Frank Manera…”

“It was fine. Good. They’re all very friendly. I thought Frank would be more aggressive, or treat it like some kind of territorial competition with Eddie, but I guess that was more of an act, more like a hazing ritual than any real animosity…”

“Hazing? So then they blindfolded you, and spanked you with a paddle?” asked Miles.

“Almost. I put on a pair of Frank’s dark glasses, and Billy showed me a couple of notes on the keyboard,” said Waylon. Miles smiled, glancing down at his phone for a moment. Waylon could not help the smile that spread across his face as he thought back to that night.

“Frank was nice, he made a lot of comments that bothered Eddie. They have a strange friendship—but those are the kind that last a lifetime,” said Waylon.

“Like us, I guess. That’s good,” said Miles, still distracted by his phone as he checked all his social networks. Chris had not posted anything specific for a couple of days. The only recent pictures Miles could stare at were from the animal shelter the previous week. Everything Chris posted about himself was filled with his gentle, friendly character.

“Billy spoke to me in sign language. He’s an interesting guy. He rarely speaks, but he’s really friendly despite being kind of serious, you know? I thought he disliked everyone, but seems he just prefers to keep quiet…”

“That’s strange, but to each their own. Interesting to see how people choose to express themselves,” said Miles.

“Yeah, and then Chris was really friendly, and gave me a huge hug. Said he was glad that me and Eddie were finally official, because he could tell that Eddie liked me a lot. He’s really nice, and his embrace was very strong, and warm, and…”

Miles frowned as he slowly raised his eyes to stare at Waylon. The triumphant smile on Waylon’s face said that he knew exactly the kind of effect such a statement would have on Miles. Waylon silently celebrated his win as he crushed his cigarette into the bottom half of a cut soda can that served as an ashtray.

“You…were with Chris?”

“How else could he hug me? He’s so affectionate and friendly at all times. I’ve never met such a genuinely kind person. Chris is friendly to everyone, all the time. You’re missing out, Miles..”

The smack of a pillow to Waylon’s face was not unexpected. Waylon laughed as he was knocked onto the bed by Miles, beating him mercilessly with a soft pillow. Soon, Waylon was pinned against the bed, the pillow being showed uncomfortably hard against his cheek.

“Dammit, Park! Why didn’t you tell me you were going to Chris’ house?!”

“I thought that was obvious! If Manera and Hope were going to be there, logically, Chris would be there to! They’re all best friends…” said Waylon.

“You could have invited me!” said Miles.

“I thought you said you couldn’t stand being around Frank,” said Waylon, finally managing to lift his arms and hold Miles’ arms, immobilizing his attacks against him. Waylon noted the clear outline of his face indented into the pillow. He gave a smug grin that only infuriated Miles more. An intense wave of jealousy rose up in Miles, having heard the confession.

“You didn’t tell me that…dammit. You’re lucky I’m trying to be a better person for Chris! Otherwise, you would be suffocating right now…”

“Don’t worry, Upshur, I’m on a mission to fix that. There’s going to be many more opportunities, I promise. Next time I meet up with Chris, I will make sure that you are there,” said Waylon. Miles sighed and the aggression slowly drained from his body. Waylon was combing his fingers through his hair that had become disheveled during the tussle. Waylon’s best jeans and a button-down black shirt were laid out on a chair near the bed. Waylon started to get changed.

Miles ended up lying in bed, looking at his phone. He stared longingly at Chris’ face in one of his photographs before finally closing the page. Miles had imagined many scenarios where he and Chris could have embraced. He could not help but feel jealous, and discouraged, that Waylon had achieved it before him. It was not fair, he thought. He wanted to hug Chris—to have his warmth surround him. Waylon’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket just as he was bending down to put on his black tennis shoes. His view shifted to Miles.

“Remember how I told you that I wanted you to see some of Eddie’s old dress design sketches? Well, he just sent over the book. It’s waiting at the front door, and I need to go pick it up…”

“Do not mount Eddie in the doorway, please,” said Miles. “I just cleaned the tile this morning. It would be disgusting to have to mop up the floor after you two…”

“Come on, come on,” said Waylon, “I really want you to see his sketches. They’re really good! Eddie is talented…” Waylon managed to drag Miles out of bed and pulled him toward the front door, a mischievous smile on his face the whole time. Miles was scowling. He could not understand why Waylon wanted him to see his stupid boyfriend so badly. Miles had just seen Eddie the other day. His face changed radically when the door opened.

“Waylon? Uh, hello, good afternoon. Eddie asked me to do him a favor and bring this to you here. He said it was urgent, and since I was passing this way on my way to the animal shelter anyways, I offered. I think it’s one of his sketchbooks?” Chris’ voice rang in Miles’ ears—so soft and gentle. He extended a package to Waylon that appeared to be a book wrapped in brown paper. Miles’ eyes went wide with astonishment, and nervousness. He forgot how to breathe. Chris glanced at the strange, greenish look on Miles’ face and gave him a soft smile.

“Oh, hello, Miles! Forgive my rudeness to come to your house uninvited. Eddie asked me to do this, if it wasn’t too much trouble. I didn’t bother to ask why, and he didn’t really give a good reason. I know that today is the big dinner…”

“You know how obsessive compulsive Eddie can be about details. Maybe he felt sorry for having forgotten to give it to me earlier, when I was at his house. Sorry if you had to go far out of you way,” said Waylon.

“No, not at all,” said Chris. “Your house is very nice, by the way. Whenever I pass by here, I always notice how nice the yard and garden looks. Are you the one who tends the lawn, Miles?”

Miles had a delayed reaction before he nodded slightly. He could not find his voice as he stood staring at the sight of Chris, in front of him, in his house, mentioning that he passes by almost daily. How could Miles be so stupid as to not have realized that before?

“I…Chris…I…I’m the one who takes care of the lawn. Mowing and gardening relaxes me…”

“It’s really great that you like outdoor activities. You do an excellent job of delivering newspapers every morning as well,” said Chris. “You are always very punctual.”

Waylon’s smile stretched triumphantly as he noticed Chris and Miles beginning a slow interaction. Miles felt as if he might faint just from having Chris in front of him, so real and close. He hoped that eventually these interactions could become more and more frequent. Waylon enjoyed helping his friend connect with the person he had dreamed of for so long.

“I have to go, or I will be late to the shelter,” said Chris. “I hope to see you guys again. Maybe we could do something together, the three of us, one of these days?”

Chris walked to his truck and turned around to say goodbye, an arm extended towards both of the men. He gave a wide smile before climbing into his truck. Miles let out a breath it felt like he had been holding the entire time and ran one hand down his face. He could not stop the burning rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Chris was just perfect, in every way.

“Thank you,” said Miles, quietly before he continued, “Thank you…thank…” Miles launched himself into Waylon’s arms. Waylon knew what the small interaction would mean to Miles, and that it would more than make up for not having invited him the previous week.

“He’s so beautiful…so perfect…Damn! I live in constant fear that someone else is going to realize it and steal him away, I mean, it’s not hard to see how amazing Chris is…I wonder why others have not already snagged him actually…”

“Why don’t you be the one to steal him away then, Miles? You’ve been crushing on him for so long. Don’t you think it’s time you do something about it?”

Miles shook his head, avoiding eye contact. Chris was a wonderful, many-faceted man. How could Miles hope to be the one to fill all the requirements necessary to become worthy of someone like Chris Walker?

Miles was distracted, disrespectful, and impulsive, verging on obsessive. He learned to walk on his own since childhood, and did not really know how to behave differently. He did not believe that he was deserving of such a kind and gentle person. Waylon did not agree with Miles negative view of himself, but both of them had very similar perception of the world and its flaws.

There was one thing, however, that Miles could not ignore. The one ray of hope that made him believe the story of him and Chris may have a happy ending. Because it was rather strange that Chris had not been in any kind of serious relationship in all of the time since Miles had formally met him backstage. Since the night that Chris dropped everything, at one of his own concerts, to give Miles his undivided attention.

There was plenty of time to orchestrate more interactions between the two, and Waylon was up for the challenge. He knew it was only a matter of time before they would no longer require his assistance to spend time together. No matter how obsessive and irreverent Miles could be at times, deep down, he was actually a very nice person—and Chris was certainly aware of that.

 ——

Waylon carefully studied every drawing that filled Eddie’s old sketch book. He knew that many of the designs originated during Eddie’s school years. They covered a large range of garments from dresses, both casual and formal, suits, and even children’s clothing, among other things.

Eddie was very talented, indeed. Waylon admired the quality of the drawings. He spent a considerably long time contemplating one garment that looked like something directly out of the forties. There were even several scribbled notes regarding accessories that would perfectly compliment the outfit.

Waylon’s smile was different as he stared at the book. His boyfriend was truly talented—he had a natural gift for everything about fashion and its derivatives. It was amazing. Eddie may be old-fashioned, but he could perfectly combine classic and modern styles in his fashion designs.

“Did Eddie draw these, Way?” asked Alma.

“Yeah, these are just some of the many designs that he’s been working on since school. He’s talented, right?”

“Very,” said Alma. Her smile was almost identical to Waylon’s. Waylon put the book away in a safe place. He could be careless with many of his belongings, but he knew how important it was to keep Eddie’s sketches in good condition.

“What time is he coming?” asked Alma.

“In about twenty minutes. Trust me. He’s very punctual,” said Waylon, putting his hand gently on his mother’s shoulder. He worried that, perhaps, she was feeling nervous about the meeting. Waylon knew his mother would be wonderful. She would make Eddie feel welcome, despite their differing world views, and the fact that it was Alma’s first time meeting one of Waylon’s partners.

“Yes, I figured that out considering all of your recent outings. My unpunctual son, never ready when Eddie arrives. I know you well,” said Alma. She had prepared a dinner of steamed vegetables, stew with tofu instead of meat, and fresh-squeezed, pink lemonade. She put a lot of effort into preparing and serving the meal. She wore a white corduroy dress with embellishments in soft blue and her long, blond hair was pinned in a simple style. Waylon always thought his mother had a very natural beauty.

“You think he will like it? It’s vegetarian, after all…”

“Eddie will like anything you prepare, seriously, you have nothing to worry about,” said Waylon. They both fell silent and turned to gaze at the front door. Eddie could arrive at any time.

“Have you been having a lot of sex, Waylon?”

“Hmm…” was Waylon’s feeble reply. He still felt slightly uncomfortable talking about sex with his mom. His mother was very open with her own beliefs, and supported healthy sexual activity. As much as Waylon wanted to, though, he found it hard to openly discuss his sex life with his mother.

“Are you being safe, Way?” she asked.

“We try. Sometimes Eddie forgets his special condoms…”

“Special? In what way? Is he that big…”

“Mom, please, let’s talk about this later,” said Waylon. His words seemed to be some kind of invocation because no sooner had they left his mouth than Eddie’s car pulled up in front of the house. Waylon and his mother quickly walked to the door to watch Eddie’s arrival. Alma peered out the window.

“Oh my, how much older exactly?” she asked.

“He’s not that much older. He tends to look older because of his clothes. I told him not to dress so formal, but…”

Eddie left his car and walked slowly to the front door. He had a box in his hands and his face reflected a marked nervousness. The carrot cake had seemed like a good option to bring, and he hoped Mrs. Park enjoyed it. Everything felt very strange and Eddie did not know what to expect from the meeting.

The door was opened before Eddie could knock, revealing a thin, stylish young woman with blond hair and a bright smile. Eddie immediately recognized her beauty as being the same look he found so attractive on Waylon.

“Welcome, Eddie! I’m so glad to finally meet you,” said Alma. Eddie smiled nervously as he extended a hand and shook her hand in the most formal way possible. Alma held back laughter at the gentlemanly gesture. Once Eddie was closer, it was easy to see that he looked no older than twenty-five of six.

“Very good afternoon, Mrs. Park. It is a pleasure to meet you. I have brought you this carrot cake, and hope that you will enjoy it,” said Eddie.

“Oh, don’t talk so formal! You are making me feel older than I am. Call me Alma,” she said. Eddie seemed extremely nervous, but he accepted the words with a smile and a nod. Alma took the cake and smiled as she gestured for Eddie to come into the house.

The tension in Eddie’s shoulders looked painful. Alma led the way  into the kitchen, carrying the cake as she looked for a safe place to display it. Waylon sighed and walked up to Eddie, slipping his hand into Eddie’s.

“Hey, take it easy,” said Waylon. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just dinner.”

“I know, darling, I know…” said Eddie, his voice sounding higher than normal due to his nerves. To Eddie’s surprise, Waylon lifted up on his toes and planted a slow, gentle kiss on his lips as he hugged his neck. Eddie’s gaze immediately shot toward the kitchen, worried about what Mrs. Park would think about her son’s behavior.

“For dinner, I made vegetables and stew but I used tofu instead of meat, I hope you don’t mind. We do not usually eat many products of animal origin,” said Alma.

“Do not worry. I am very excited to try your cooking. I am sure the cuisine will be delicious,” said Eddie. Despite Waylon’s attempts to help him relax, Eddie remained tense. He could acutely feel the weight of Waylon’s hands on his shoulders. Waylon’s smile was soft and gentle, completely devoid of any mockery, as he attempted to reassure Eddie.

“Do you like spinach, Eddie?” asked Alma.

“Yes, ma’am. Would you like assistant serving the food?” asked Eddie.

“No, you’re the guest, allow  me to serve you--I insist. And please, just call me Alma.”

“Alright, Alma,” said Eddie. He felt very strange addressing Waylon’s mother so informally. Dinner was served and soon Eddie was sitting next to Waylon, staring down at a large plate of vegetables and other things. A large glass of lemonade, with plenty of ice, was also in front of him.

“I saw some of the designs in the book you loaned Waylon. They are very good, Eddie! How long have you been making clothes?” asked Alma.

“My mother taught me how to sew when I was a child. I’ve been practicing seriously since I was thirteen, I began making my own designs between age fourteen and fifteen. I spent hours sketching and, within a few months, I had a large collection. I put together a few sketch books and folders full of them.”

“You’ve had plenty of time to perfect your style. Is this some kind of clothing line you have planned out in your drawings?” asked Alma.

“Yes, it is,” said Eddie, “I have made a few designs through the years, but I aspire to one day have an entire line sewn and presented to the public. I was thinking about some type of show with models, make even a catwalk…”

Waylon listened closely to the conversation. He kept one hand positioned on top of Eddie’s as he spoke and smiled supportively anytime their eyes met. Eddie was pleased with how comfortable Waylon was to express his feelings, even in front of his mother. He was acting completely natural, and his relaxation was contagious. It filled Eddie with a profound happiness that Waylon would treat him so tenderly, even in front of his mother. Eddie’s fingers ended up intertwining with Waylon’s.

“I always wanted to learn to sew, but I never got around to taking a course. I had to start working at a young age,” said Alma.

“It’s never too late. I would be happy to give you a lesson, or recommend some good books, if you prefer,” said Eddie.

“Sometimes, mom likes to create artwork. She makes wonderful paintings, Eddie. I think you would catch on quickly to that type of art, considering how well you already draw, especially your grasp of the human figure,” said Waylon.

“Oh please, don’t say that Way. I’m far from good,” Alma protested as Waylon stood up and walked to an area where some paintings were hanging on the wall. He pulled down one of the completed works and walked it back to the table. Eddie was amazed at the explosion of colors and shapes reflected in the piece. There was a figure of a woman drawn through different shapes and textures. The piece was one contrast after another, from the different materials, to the vibrant use of color. The picture reflected an abundance of energy and fluidity.

“No…this is truly magnificent…you are a very talented artist, Alma,” said Eddie. “I’m no expert when it comes to art, but this piece is too good to not be displayed.”

“What’d I tell you, mom? You’re talented. You never listen when I say it,” said Waylon. Alma gave a slight laugh, and Eddie could not help but notice the striking similarities between Waylon’s smile and his mother’s. The smile of the Parks was highly contagious.

“Thank you for saying that, Eddie. I don’t paint for any kind of recognition, it’s really just for fun. I love to express myself through art. Waylon used to paint when he was younger,” said Alma.

“Yeah, until that disaster in the kitchen, when I decided to paint my entire body blue. It took forever for mom to get the rest of the paint off of my skin,” said Waylon.

The idea of a tiny Waylon child fully covered from head to toe with blue paint made Eddie smile. So, waylon had been rambunctious and rebellious from the very beginning? It was not surprising to Eddie, since Alma seemed to possess the same passionate nature.

“Mom’s always been a social activist, too. She’s organized marches and demonstrations in the past. She’s still really vigorous in defending various causes,” said Waylon.

“What can I say? Rebellion runs through my veins. Now you know where Way gets it,” said Alma.

Over the years, Alma Park had participated in many marches and different movements. At nearly 39 years old, she felt it was time to focus her energy toward peaceful endeavors, taking a less warlike stance on activism, even after all the difficulties that had befallen their family. The waters of Alma’s soul were calmer as she grew up. It made it easy to accept all the aspects of Waylon’s varied personality. Eddie could see a clear reflection of Waylon within his mother.

“Well, I understand that you have a business of your own. A wedding shop, correct?” asked Alma.

“Yes, I have a bridal shop here, locally,” said Eddie. “There had not been an official opening, but I have been working on commission work for the past few years. I have some frequent customers, who continue to recommend me to their close friends and relatives. Their commissions keep me busy, but I am hoping to officially open the store in the near future.”

“Sounds like a very important project,” said Alma. “I’m hope you can open your store soon. I would love to walk in and peruse some of your finished pieces, one day. You obviously have a gift for creative design. I can tell that you are very attentive to details—you even specify out which accessories accompany which ensemble.”

The conversation continued on its course for a while until everyone’s plates were empty. The dessert was served by Mrs. Park, who was more than happy to listen to all the stories of her son’s boyfriend. Eddie had a polite, formal style, but, underneath the severe exterior, he was a very interesting fellow. He looked like some kind of gentleman straight from the past, from his impeccable clothing to the particular intonation of his voice as he spoke. She did not doubt that he had very specific values about home and family, but Alma did not think of that as a negative thing. It was astonishing that despite the stark difference from their own lifestyle, Waylon was still very interested in the proper, young man.

“Well, Eddie, it was wonderful to finally meet you. You are welcome to stop by for dinner whenever you like. This is your home, too, from now on,” said Alma, rising to collect the empty plates after the trio had eaten their pieces of carrot cake. “I don’t know how you knew it, but carrot cake is absolutely one of my all-time favorite desserts. You made an excellent choice, congratulations.”

Eddie attempted to assist with the dishes, but Alma swatted away his help and retired into the kitchen to clean up—but not before saying goodbye to Eddie with a warm hug and a light kiss on the cheek.

Waylon walked with Eddie toward the front door, sliding his hand into Eddie’s and lacing their fingers together. The considerable difference in their sizes was something Waylon had begun to enjoy. It amazed Waylon how much he had grown to appreciate such casual touches that made him feel much more connected to Eddie. The relationship was proving extremely satisfying, despite Waylon’s inexperience with proper dating, and Eddie being his first formal partner.

“My mom loves you now,” said Waylon, smiling as he closed the door behind them. He lifted up his arms to drape them around Eddie’s shoulders, and was rewarded with a pair of strong arms encircling his waist.

“She is a very warm and friendly person,” said Eddie. “I understand where you get a lot of your personality, darling. You’re very much like your mother—not just in appearance.” Waylon closed the distance between them, pressing a couple of soft kisses onto Eddie’s lips as he smiled. It felt good to hear that Eddie liked his mother’s attitude and convictions.

“There is one thing I do not understand, though,” said Eddie. “If your mother is a vegetarian, then why did you eat a burger, and part of my steak, on our dates?”

“Ah, well you see, Eddie,” said Waylon, grinning and giving a small shrug. “I am, what you would call, a rebel amongst rebels.” Eddie laughed before covering Waylon’s face with kisses. He couldn’t help thinking how astonishing it was that he kept finding more and more to love about his boyfriend. Eddie had to be honest with himself, and admit that what he was feeling for Waylon increased everyday.

“I know you’re going to be busy working on your commissions for Friday. I guess I can see you in the afternoon that day, maybe?”

“Yes, but I will text you, and send you pictures. I am excited to show you the finished product. You’ve seen the old designs, but I am constantly striving to improve, darling…”

“Sometimes I think you push yourself too hard, Gluskin,” said Waylon, lifting up on his toes to press his lips to Eddie’s. He opened Eddie’s mouth with his tongue and the kiss grew deeper as it continued longer than necessary. Eddie’s hands moved over Waylon’s back as they remained connected, pressing down to his hips, and then back up to his lower back. He delighted at how Waylon seemed to fit perfectly into his hands. The feeling of kissing Waylon, holding him, and feeling his fingers pressing into his neck were becoming addictive.

“We better stop, or we’re going to end up having sex in your car again,” said Waylon, when their lips parted. “You need to get a good night’s sleep, tonight.”

“I don’t know if I could manage another round, darling. I am an old man, remember? I might break a hip,” said Eddie, causing Waylon to laugh before kissing him again. They hugged one another, pressing their bodies impossibly close. Eddie buried his nose in Waylon’s hair, inhaling the scent of his lover, with its subtle fruit undertones, and luxuriating in the feeling of Waylon’s warm body in his arms.

“I have a confession to make,” said Waylon. “This afternoon, the reason I asked that favor of you was because…”

“You wanted Chris and Miles to be forced to talk. I know. Miles makes his intentions fairly obvious…”

“I know!” said Waylon, “Everyone realizes it, but somehow not Chris. Or is he maybe not interested? Miles is so obviously trying to get closer to the guy. Maybe if they spend more time together, good things could happen?” Waylon smiled before kissing Eddie again.

Eddie reluctantly released Waylon, desiring to stay in that position all night. His hand briefly brushed across Waylon’s blushing cheek. It took all of his restraint not to lean in and kiss Waylon all over again.

“I will see you on Friday. I’ll pick you up, and we can decide then where we will go,” said Eddie.

“Anywhere is okay with me, Eddie. Uh…” Waylon stuttered slightly. “As long…as we’re together.” Eddie’s eyes flew open at the unexpected sentimental statement.

Eddie lifted Waylon’s chin with a single finger and leaned in to place a slow, gentle kiss on his lips. There was no heat behind it, only a soft, chaste gesture of affection. He could not help but note the blush on Waylon’s cheeks—a reflection of exactly how much it cost him to make such a sentimental statement. His lips moved slightly against Eddie’s before they broke apart.

“I’ll try to bring your book back soon. I know how important it is. I kept it in a safe place, so I can admire all of your designs. I promise, I will be extremely careful, I don’t want…”

“Don’t worry, I trust you. I know you will take good care of it,” said Eddie, admiring how  Waylon looked in the soft light on the front porch. Everyday, he found Waylon even more attractive than the last. “I will be here early on Friday. For now, I need to leave, or I will end up spending the rest of the night kissing you…”

“That sounds like a good plan to me,” said Waylon. Their eyes met and Eddie smiled down at his lover. If Waylon continued saying such sweet things, the need to stay by his side would increase until Eddie could bear to drive away.

Waylon went back inside, unable to keep the huge smile from his face as he retrieved Eddie’s sketchbook from its protected position on the shelf. His mother chimed in with a flood of positive comments about Eddie. She raved about him calling him nice, polite, and well-spoken. She was very pleased they could finally meet, and have dinner. She quickly prepared some tea and took it to her bedroom once they were done cleaning the kitchen. Waylon sat down and stared at the book, enamored with the wonderful designs.

He sighed as he laid his head on the pillow and let the sketchbook rest on his chest. Eddie had so many talents. Perhaps some people considered him unattractive because of his formal way of dressing, especially considering how intimidating his first impression could be to some people.

But to Waylon, Eddie was gentle, attentive, and very kind. Even Eddie’s distinctive aggression during their private times together was not unattractive to Waylon. On the contrary, Waylon found his actions exciting and erotic. Every day he discovered a new detail about Eddie that made him even more attractive. He was constantly noting things throughout his days that reminded him of Eddie. It was embarrassing how often Eddie crossed his mind during a day.

In the beginning, Waylon had thought that Eddie was drawn to him because he had a knack for attracting other men with his games and flirtatious ways. He had caught Eddie’s eye with his suggestive dancing at the club. That night, he had thought that Eddie was the one who was lucky to get to spend a night with him.

Once Waylon could consider the situation more calmly, he began to think that _he_ was actually the lucky one to have found someone as amazing as Eddie. After years of unhealthy relationships, and one night stands, Eddie had managed to break Waylon’s unhealthy cycle. The realization awakened a new sensation inside of Waylon that he was not accustomed to feeling.

He was lucky—so lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: Did anyone notice the Deadpool reference? I hope so xD
> 
> Waylon is such a good friend, helping Miles out with his relationship troubles. I promise there will be more Miles and Chris coming up!
> 
> I hope you liked it!
> 
> Pegacorn: One project is done, and I am focusing on catching this story up now! More coming much sooner than last time.


	6. Because You’re Mine, I Walk the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waylon starts to feel insecure after several days away from Eddie. Was his new boyfriend already getting bored of their relationship? Meanwhile, the comeback concert of The Blood Sex Machine is getting closer, and Eddie has a favor to ask of Frank before the concert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spontaneity is an essential part of this story. I’m happy with the results and hope to expand on many nuances here in the following chapters. I’m happy I get to share my musical tastes through this story.
> 
> The song for this chapter is from Johnny Cash, Walk the Line. One of my favorite artists.

“We should go and get matching tattoos together,” said Frank, nonchalantly, while adjusting one of the strings on his acoustic guitar. Eddie did not bother looking up at the statement.

“No. We will not be getting matching tattoos. I will never get a tattoo. You are welcome to get as many as you like,” said Eddie. His tone brooked no argument, marking his decision as final. Frank continued adjusting the guitar string, his dark sunglasses slipping down his nose, slightly.

“I’ve already got some designs ready,” said Frank, willfully ignoring Eddie’s response. “You’ll have half on your arm, and I will have the other half on mine, and when we put our arms together, it makes a stripper…or rather, a stripper’s skeleton.”

“Did you not hear me? I am not getting a tattoo with you. Understood?”

“We never do anything together as best friends,” said Frank.

Eddie fought the urge to laugh at such a dramatic statement. He looked up slowly, raising one eyebrow as he set aside his notebook.

“We always do things as best friends. Usually you take me to strip clubs, seedy bars, underground racing, oh, and the one time you took me to a cockfight...the list goes on. Despite all that you manage to talk me into, I will not get a tattoo with you, Frank.”

“You’re so boring. I thought, with your new boyfriend around, that things would finally be more fun around here,” said Frank, focusing on his guitar and strumming a few notes to ensure that Clarissa was tuned correctly. Similarly, Eddie resumed work on his notebook. There were several outstanding accounts that required his attention. Many orders had accumulated in the last week.

“You should ventilate this house,” said Frank. “It smells like sex.”

If Eddie had been taking a drink, he likely would have spit it out. His gaze rose again, confusion and discomfort plain on his face. Frank smiled as he watched Eddie’s reaction.

“So I take it that’s a yes, you’ve been getting laid a lot. Good for you, Eddie-boy! At last, you found someone willing to act out all your dirty fantasies.”

“Would you please shut up!”

Frank continued smiling as he set the guitar down on the couch. Most of the lights were off and all was quiet in the home of Eddie Gluskin. The man rarely turned on the television because he was usually busy with his work or hobbies. Frank was the only one who regularly turned on the television or played music on the stereo. Frank always liked to make a lot of noise wherever he went.

“Mrs. G is aware of the existence of Way Way?” asked Frank.

“No,” said Eddie, his face turning thoughtful for a moment. Speaking about his mother had always been a touchy subject.

She was an extremely loving and gentle woman, but she was strong willed and set in her ways. Eddie had inherited some of her severe temperament, but his mother’s tolerance for change was lower and her quickness to anger higher. And that was saying something, considering Eddie’s temper ran hot and he had little patience.

“Are you afraid your mother might scold you for robbing the cradle?” asked Frank.

“I did not rob any cradles, and it’s not…that. Age isn’t the issue, but rather, it’s Waylon’s behavior. He’s always so…”

“Impulsive? Irreverent? Liberal?” asked Frank.

“It’s like you’re describing yourself,” said Eddie, and Frank had to agree. He adjusted his dark glasses as he propped one of his legs up on the coffee table, earning a glare from Eddie. Frank continued, unconcerned about Eddie’s disapproval.

“Forget those problems,” said Frank. “Way’s young, energetic, and carefree, sure, but he’s not a bad guy. I’m sure he knows how to treat a proper woman like Mrs. G. You have to give him credit, he won all of us over, after all.”

Eddie nodded slowly as he scratched his head. His mother was a reasonable woman, and Waylon was actually very intelligent and charming. He knew that interaction between them would not be too chaotic. Sometimes, Frank had moments of clarity when he could surprise Eddie with his maturity and ability to assess a situation. Too bad those moments were so few and far between.

“Maybe we should have some kind of initiation ritual for your little boyfriend. Yeah! I’ll ask Karma if we can schedule an appointment this weekend,” said Frank.

“I’m not going to bring my boyfriend to see your stripper friend!” said Eddie. He always found it necessary to raise his voice when speaking with Frank. It was inevitable that Frank would make some inappropriate comment.

“You afraid that he’ll leave you for her?” asked Frank. “You’re way too insecure, Gluskin, but I respect your decision. Don’t worry, I am already thinking up new ways to involve Waylon in our gang.”

Sometimes, Eddie could not, for the life of him, understand Frank Manera. He had always been eccentric since they were first friends and still young--such as Frank always wearing dark glasses he had stolen from his father. Frank still remembered their meeting perfectly.

It was no secret that Frank’s admiration for his father bordered on idol worship. He modeled his entire life after his father. Frank knew that his father had been part of a rock band, when he was younger, and Frank took that information very seriously.

Mr. Manera kept his guitars jealously guarded in a special room filled with vinyl records. Every wall was decorated with a large poster for a different band. The treasures in that room became the linchpin that Frank would use to model his future.

Eddie had a vivid memory of his mother, standing in the doorway of the Manera household, holding a cake, as she led Eddie to meet their newest neighbors. Mrs. Manera was a very attractive woman in her own way. She had blond hair, a kind face, and wore a stylish black dress. Her makeup was flawless, and her red lipstick matched her red pumps and huge earrings.

Peeking from behind the new neighbor was a small boy with long, tangled hair. Most of his face was concealed by a huge pair of black sunglasses, making his expression undecipherable. His pants were torn at the knee, and his blue shirt was sprinkled with crumbs. Eddie had stared, unable to tear his eyes away from Frank Manera. That was the first time they met.

To Eddie’s surprise, the little stranger dropped his glasses and winked. Eddie’s eyes had grown wider with confusion, not sure what to make of the gesture.

Mrs. Manera thanked Mrs. Gluskin for the cake. There was an awkwardness to the interactions between the two families, but Eddie’s mother was always friendly to new people. It was her nature.

The next day, Eddie walked into his kitchen and found Frank sitting at the table, a muffin in hand and a huge glass of grape juice on the table. Frank had a tendency to fill his face with any available food and make a mess of his shirt in the process.

The dark sunglasses were still on his face leading Eddie to believe that Frank never took them off. He could envision Frank wearing the shades while sleeping. Eddie’s mother explained that Frank had accepted his invitation to play. Neither Eddie, nor his mother, had anticipated that Frank would actually act on the invitation made out of politeness. But from that moment on, their friendship was sealed.

“When’s your big concert happening?” asked Eddie, quickly changing the subject. Frank put on a familiar rock star pose. It was too fake to be taken seriously.

“You’re so excited for the return of The Blood Sex Machine?” said Frank. Eddie had never big a huge fan of the name, but the band managed to have some popular songs in the past on some of their previous albums.

Eddie also did not particularly enjoy their style of music, but he could recognize that his friends had real musical talent. They played their own instruments, wrote their own songs, and Frank’s voice always stood out at concerts. He sounded more aggressive—more serious, when he was performing live.

“We’re playing in a week. This following Saturday. Bring your boyfriend, and bring his awkward friend if you want,” said Frank, his smile stretching wide. He was obviously overjoyed to have the band reunited. The break had allowed them all time to create new material. Frank’s creative ideas could strike anywhere, at any moment.

Eddie would not have expected Frank to react any differently. There was already a glimmer in his eyes that said he was about to do something crazy. Indeed, everything about Frank seemed to be crazy.

“Frank,” said Eddie, his voice taking on a more serious tone. Frank waited, giving Eddie his full attention. Eddie closed his eyes for a moment, running his hands through his air. It was always a monumental effort for Eddie to ask anything from his friend. Usually, it meant everything was out of control for him to have to ask Frank for help. “I want to ask you a favor…”

Frank’s smile intensified with that statement. A row of white teeth stretched between his unruly beard. He crooked one finger and pulled his sunglasses down, slightly, revealing brown eyes. Dammit, thought Eddie. It was like making a deal with the devil himself.

“Ask away Eddie, I’m listening. Tell me, what can I do for you?”

——

Miles always woke early in the morning. He had worked as a paperboy for a couple of years. In the beginning, it was difficult to get out of bed so early, but the steady paycheck made it worth the effort. He carried a battered, hand-drawn map in his pocket, detailing out his different routes where he would deliver papers.

Miles only delivered to a certain area. The city was large and divided between many people to cover the entire area. Lots of people would try to tell Miles that he should stop his delivery route and get a real job, but Miles did not care what others said. He had his own personal reasons for continuing.

The route was already memorized in his head. He had been practicing the same routine for years, and memorized every change since then. The map was really just a reference—a backup, in case Miles needed to double check something in a neighborhood.

His bike was worn, but still in fine working order. A huge satchel over one shoulder was stacked full of folded newspapers. Miles enjoyed getting outside to do his work--it inspired him to get more fresh air, and exercise. That was one of the things he enjoyed most about the job.

Miles had always had an abundance of energy.

Under different circumstances, Miles could have been an excellent athlete, if he had the right motivation. But Miles was not interested in joining any sports. Despite being athletic, Miles’ lifestyle was filled with unhealthy lifestyle choices, such as smoking cigarettes.

Miles had started smoking at the same age as Waylon—twelve. The two had begun hanging out with a rough crowd.

They were lucky not to have fallen prey to some kind of perverts who often frequented the shady places where they would hang out. Miles was proud when others found him attractive, though. He and Waylon had gotten several favors because of their looks.

Miles found the streets in their neighborhood boring. They lacked color and life, full of overgrown lawns as though no one cared enough to make an effort. Miles enjoyed gardening, though it was mostly a secret.

Waylon knew Miles enjoyed pruning his flowers, mowing his healthy lawn, and caring for a wide variety of plants. Some may find gardening tedious, but not Miles. The longer he was outdoors, the happier he felt.

Miles’ route was a zigzag through streets, launching newspapers with a well-aimed toss. He had a great arm which would have been great if he had taken up football or baseball, but Miles had no desire to hang out with the crowd of shallow people he associated with the sports teams at school. He knew too many of those guys, and they were assholes.

He picked up his pace. He did not want to be late for the last house marked on his map. It was of utmost importance that his other stops were done to allow him some free time to enjoy that one, important moment.

The moment when he delivered to the home of Chris Walker.

Miles had fought other employees to be assigned that particular route. It had formerly belonged to another guy named Josh. There had been a fierce discussion about it, but Miles was able to wrest the area away from the other boy, despite him technically living closer to the address. That little detail was insignificant to Miles.

He pedaled faster as he checked his watch. It was almost seven o’clock, and Miles knew that Chris usually walked outside to pick up the paper at that time. He was always wearing baggy pajama pants and carrying a steaming cup of coffee. Miles found Chris’ morning look to be adorable.

“Good morning, Miles,” said Chris as Miles pulled up. “Punctual, as always…”

“Good morning, Chris. Ready for today’s news?” asked Miles, his voice strained from the physical exertion. He knew his face was likely dotted with sweat, as well, but he found these precious moments worth the effort.

He raised a hand to push damp hair out of his face and get a better view of Chris. He was carrying a white mug with the phrase “#1 Sniper” printed on the front. Miles assumed Chris’ sister had purchased the cup. The phrase likely pointed toward his favorite video game, and not his career as a soldier.

Perhaps Miles could not look at Chris every day, or as much as he wanted, but he always appreciated the few moments when he could have Chris’ attention completely fixed on their conversation. Miles practically fell off his bike to personally deliver Chris’ paper with a huge, dumb grin on his face. It was pitiful to be so obvious, but Miles could not help himself. Chris’ sleepy face and relaxed posture in the morning were something he cherished.

“You’re the best at this, ya know?” said Chris, scanning the newspaper headlines. Miles had to take a moment to remember how to breath to calm the wave of emotions stirring up his body. Being around Chris always caused more reaction in his body than the rigorous cycling to reach the house on time.

“Would you like a glass of water? You look pretty exhausted,” said Chris. Miles was immediately torn between accepting the invitation, or claiming he needed to get back to work. He was so nervous to use his voice again. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably. He hoped that Chris would not notice, but he was probably too nice to mention it, even if he did.

“A little water would be great, thanks,” said Miles.

The white shirt Chris wore was wide—much wider than his actual size. Everything he wore was for comfort, not fashion. Not a single detail was lost to Miles as he stared. He felt like a stalker, but he also felt helpless to change his ways. Before long, a glass of ice water was in Miles’ hand.

“Thanks, Chris. Most people on my route aren’t this nice.”

“Most people are still asleep,” said Chris, grinning. “I think you and I are some of the few who wake up this early, and, well, at least you have a good reason…”

“There’s nothing wrong with waking up early,” said Miles. “It’s a good habit.”

Miles regretted that he did not have anything witty to say in these situations. He wanted to share many thoughts and stories, but his mind was still half asleep. His nerves only complicated the matter further. Miles took a long sip of water, trying to clear his throat and come up with something to say. I’m an idiot, he thought.

“You know…in a few days, we’re getting back together, you know, my band. The Blood Sex Machine. We’re playing at Trager’s next Saturday. You want to go?” Miles was silent for a long time. His face went slack as his mouth hung open in a look of dumb surprise. Chris cleared his throat in an attempt to break the awkward tension. “Waylon will probably be there. Because of Eddie, I mean. I understand if you don’t want to go…”

“No! No, that’s not it, I was just surprised, that’s all,” said Miles in a rushed jumble of words. “Of course I would love to go. Waylon should have told me…or maybe Eddie hasn’t told him yet. I’m going to be the first one in line to see you guys play.”

“You’ve always been our number one fan,” said Chris, his voice more animated than before, and a genuine smile lighting up his face. Miles could not help but get lost again in that moment. He wanted to preserve the memory of that smile for as long as possible. Miles’ smile stretched even wider than Chris’.

“I’m always be your biggest fan.”

——

Waylon worked his usual shift at the supermarket. It had been a slow day making it a boring and tedious work day that seemed to lasts forever. He checked his cell phone, quickly pulling up his photos. He flipped through a few pictures to pass the time.

Eddie’s face always looked slightly confused in their couples’ selfies. Eddie was terrible with technology, which Waylon found incredibly cute. Waylon smiled just looking at the pictures, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush. Eddie always looked good to him.

The couple had not seen much of each other in recent days, as they had agreed. Waylon definitely missed Eddie, but he knew it was important to give him time to complete some orders for his clients. Waylon sat, pondering the situation. This was the first serious relationship he had ever had in his life.

How are people even supposed to act in a relationship?

Waylon had seen movies about it, but they all seemed so unrealistic. All the kisses, hugs, and romance glossed over the other details. Everything was simplified for the screen. Waylon had never been a person who remembered important dates. He barely remembered the birthdays of his loved ones, which Miles and his mother both knew. It was not that he did not care—it just was not something that was important to him.

Eddie was the complete opposite. He put a great deal of emphasis on important dates. Waylon knew that birthdays, anniversaries, and other events between them, as a couple, would be taken very seriously. Waylon would have to put reminders on his phone and marks on his calendar so he would not overlook any important dates and offend his boyfriend.

Deep down, Waylon hoped he would get the opportunity to celebrate an anniversary with Eddie. He wanted a full, happy relationship that was stable enough to last an entire year. For the first time in his life, Waylon felt hopeful about a relationship.

Waylon’s boss sent him to the back to tear down empty boxes. Waylon sighed and walked to the back, following orders. On his way, he passed the magazine section and paused for a moment to browse the headlines of the different periodicals.

Some of the magazines were for young adults, advertising different articles on how to get a date, how to attract your ideal guy, how to know if your partner is a good match, and ways to keep your boyfriend happy. Waylon could not pass up the chance to grab a couple of the magazines, analyzing their possibilities. Perhaps he had found something to help pass the time on an otherwise boring day.

After work, Waylon walked to Miles’ house, as he did everyday. It was such a habit, Waylon practically made the walk without thinking.

“Hey Park. What do you have there?” asked Miles.

“Research,” said Waylon. Miles quirked an eyebrow in confusion. Waylon unpacked a couple of the magazines he had purchased. He had used his employee discount which made them very cheap. Miles just stared at the glossy covers.

“You bought a bunch of magazines for young girls?” asked Miles, reaching for one of the magazines. “Oh, look, this one has a personality test, how fun. So, what prompted this weird splurge?”

“Miles…I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend. I need help, and I’ll take whatever I can get,” said Waylon. Miles knew better than to laugh at the rather strange situation. He could tell that Waylon was serious. They were both entering new relationship territory, both unsure how to cope with their new situations. But, even knowing the severity of the statement, Miles couldn’t help but laugh a little. He was lucky that Waylon laughed with him.

“Do you think our relationships will last through the summer?” asked Waylon.

“It’s winter,” said Miles. “This article doesn’t even make sense.” Both of the boys grabbed a magazine and began reading. Most of the magazines were rather stupid. The articles were superficial, bordering on idiotic at times, but Waylon was willing to try anything.

Some of the ideas he read could work for him and Eddie. Things like making a special dinner, buying some small thing that Eddie would like, or being more expressive about his feelings. Waylon had never had to open up about his feelings to anyone, really. The person he shared with the most was his mother, and that definitely had its limits.

“You know this is all bullshit, right?” asked Miles, sounding on the verge of laughter. Of course they both knew it was garbage--but it was better than nothing. Waylon’s eyebrows rose as he shrugged.

“You have a better suggestion, then?”

Miles was silent for a moment, thinking. Eddie seemed to be a very detailed person in every aspect of his life. Perhaps that was the key for Waylon, the details that other people glossed over.

“Bake him a cake?” asked Miles, though his voice sounded as though he doubted his own advice. They were both equally lost on the subject. Miles was an amateur investigator more than anything else. He liked to watch Chris in the most mundane moments of his life.

Miles enjoyed watching Chris working at the shelter for abandoned animals. He especially enjoyed watching Chris in the morning, when he would personally deliver his paper. Chris was always kind, even early in the morning. Miles knew exactly how early Chris’ mornings began.

“Well, fuck then, I don’t know, what does Eddie Gluskin like?” asked Miles.

“Sewing, reading, watching old movies…going for walks in the park…”

“You are hanging out with an old man, in every sense of the word, my friend,” said Miles. Waylon had to admit that most of Eddie’s hobbies were atypical for someone his age. On second thought, none of the people Eddie hung around with were typical people.

Chris was equally quiet in his tastes of activities. He preferred to spend his evenings rescuing helpless animals or assisting the elderly. Billy, who seldom spoke, was an active member in different groups for people with speech impediments. His perfect sign language was incredibly valuable in those endeavors. And then there was the legend himself, Frank Manera, who was anything but normal. The list of crazy activities he was known to enjoy was too long to contemplate.

“What kind of people are we hanging out with, Miles?”

“I don’t know, but at least life’s more interesting this way,” said Miles. Both decided to put aside the magazines. They were already gay enough without reading relationship articles. There were even a couple of articles about menstruation that were completely unhelpful.

“Did you see Chris today, when you were delivering papers?” Waylon asked, casually, settling back on Miles’ bed. It was a routine question, actually. There was a weariness in his voice. Boredom. It was the only bad thing about knowing someone too well.

“Yeah,” said Miles. “He looked as lovely as ever. Told me about the comeback of The Blood Sex Machine next week. I was personally invited by Chris! I thought I was going to faint when he told me. I imagine Eddie must have told you days ago…”

Waylon’s eyes went wide as he stared. Miles was looking at his phone, distracted, expecting to hear every detail about the relaxing moments between Waylon and Eddie. Waylon’s face looked anything but relaxed.

“Eddie hasn’t told me anything about the concert…”

Miles immediately looked up from his cell. Waylon’s voice sounded much too dull. Trouble in paradise, perhaps?

“Things going okay between you and Eddie?” asked Miles. Waylon nodded, automatically. Perhaps they had not seen each other in a few days, but that was not synonymous with trouble, right?

“He’s been busy, with his business. Maybe he was going to tell me later, or maybe Frank hadn’t said anything to him about it, yet. Sometimes Frank likes to keep things a surprise. Do you think it’s a good idea if I asked Eddie about the concert?”

“You’re his boyfriend, I think you should know the answer to that,” said Miles. Waylon pulled out his cell phone and pulled up Eddie’s number. He felt like an idiot, but he preferred to clarify the situation immediately, instead of allowing his brain to jump to the worst conclusions. No matter how much he hated to accept it, insecurity was a part of his personality.

Eddie’s voice rang out across the line. “Darling? Is Everything alright?”

Waylon’s smile bloomed across his face the moment he heard that voice. Miles had to look away, finding the scene much too “romantic” for his taste. There was something strange about this new facet of Waylon he had never witnessed.

“Everything's fine,” said Waylon. “Miles just made a comment to me about a concert next week, the band, and Frank. Had he mentioned it to you?” Waylon listened as Eddie cleared his throat. That was not his normal reaction. Maybe Frank had not told him? Or maybe the date was too soon, and the plans too short notice?

“Frank told me yesterday,” said Eddie. “In fact, he told me a long time ago, but there was no confirmed date. It may be a little complicated for me that night, is it okay if you go to the concert with Miles?”

Waylon’s expression changed in that moment. Even Miles, who was trying his best to stay out of the conversation, could not help but notice the aura of doubt that appeared to settle over Waylon. Both stared for a brief moment, before Waylon answered.

“Sure. Yeah. No problem. I hope we see each other soon,” said Waylon.

“As soon as I can get caught up on my work, I will make sure we see one another, alright? We must be patient…”

“Yeah, I know Eddie. I love you , bye,” said Waylon, ending the call. Even Eddie’s voice had sounded different during the call. Preoccupied. Eddie seemed busy, as if he were in a hurry to get off the phone. Waylon felt a twinge within his chest.

“What did Eddie say, Way?” asked Miles, his tone concerned as he approached his friend, slowly. Waylon looked paler than usual.

“He’s busy. We won’t be going to the concert together. I’m starting to doubt that we will see each other at all this week, actually.” Waylon’s fingers toyed idly with his phone.

Miles had seen it before. Waylon felt rejected, and that would send him down a spiral of negative thoughts about himself. Perhaps, Eddie had not meant to make him feel that way. It could be that Eddie really was busy and would rather be spending time with Waylon. Miles had seen the way Eddie and Waylon acted around one another, and how much they both genuinely enjoyed being with one another. It was impossible that what Miles had seen between them could disappear overnight.

“Maybe he just wants to finish all of his outstanding orders so he can be free on Saturday,” said Miles.

“Then why doesn’t he want to go to the concert together?” asked Waylon. It was a reasonable question. Miles wished he had an answer. What could be motivating Eddie that they both could not guess?

“Maybe he is going to buy you something, surprise you?”

“Why are you making excuses for him?” asked Waylon, the anger in his voice not matching the hurt in his eyes. Miles could see the pain there, mixed with a dose of disappointment. Waylon had been worried from the start that Eddie would give up on their relationship. But Waylon had gone ahead and become accustomed to Eddie’s presence, his kisses, his touch, and all the other parts of their growing relationship.

Waylon felt like an idiot. A complete idiot who knew absolutely nothing about relationships.

Thinking negative thoughts would not fix nothing. Waylon knew there must be a good explanation for Eddie’s behavior. He forced himself not to indulge in the many tragic scenarios that formed in his imagination. We must be patient…Eddie’s words did little to ease Waylon’s mind. The look of disappointment on his face persisted.

Waylon missed Eddie. Very much. Hearing his voice had only made him feel Eddie’s absence more acutely than before. Maybe he was growing too dependent on Eddie? He really did not know enough about the subject to come to any concrete conclusions. He decided he would have to continue on his course—while dragging his best friend along, of course.

In order to calm his pessimistic thoughts, Waylon suggested more research. Miles and Waylon resorted to watching romantic comedies together. It was also a great way to plan some sort of future revenge on Eddie.

Eventually, something would have to change.

——

The day of the concert finally arrived. As suspected, Waylon had only seen Eddie once the previous week. Eddie had come to visit him one night, with one of his stupid grins, saying how much he had missed him. The kisses had felt sincere and heartfelt, but they did not last more than an hour. The farewell kisses were more bitter than usual. The meeting came to an end too soon as Eddie rushed to apologize. Waylon was in no mood to push the issue.

There was a small debate between Waylon and Miles on whether or not to attend the concert at all. Waylon said it did not matter, but Miles had a good argument. Miles pointed out that refusing to attend would only be dramatic, and help to push Eddie away faster. Eddie was known for over-analyzing every small detail of their relationship. The best revenge was for Waylon to put himself out there and use his sex appeal to punish Eddie for ignoring him for so long. Maybe after seeing how good Waylon looked at the concert, Eddie would think twice before leaving him alone for so long.

There were many unknown variables to consider, but Waylon agreed with Miles’ plan. He decided he would leave the title of drama queen to Eddie .

A pair of black pants, a t-shirt under a classic, red, flannel shirt. Waylon made sure he looked especially good that night. His combat boots helped him to feel safer as he stormed through the crowded audience at the club. There was music in the air, though it was coming from a sound system. Frank’s band was not playing until nine. Waylon and Miles ordered some beers as they waited for Lisa to arrive. No matter what happened, Waylon could alway rely on his fiends.

Waylon scanned the crowd, unable to catch a glimpse of Eddie. Perhaps he had been too busy to attend that night. Waylon found that implausible, however, since Frank was not the kind of person that would allow Eddie to miss such a huge event for any reason, short of death. Frank’s best and oldest friend’s attendance was mandatory. The fact that Eddie’s young boyfriend would be in attendance would further encourage his cooperation.

Backstage, Frank Manera sat with a beer in hand, watching the crowd from behind the curtains. Eddie was by his side.

“This was a bad idea,” said Eddie, sharpening his gaze. He honed in on Waylon, standing at the back of the crowd. Eddie regretted that they had not seen much of one another that week. He would have to reward Waylon for his patience.

“It’s the best idea in the world,” said Frank, his tone bordering on euphoric. Eddie was nervous, and having regrets, though it hardly mattered. Everything was already set in motion. At that point, Eddie could only go along with the plans, and wait to find out what would happen.

Soon, the lights in the club went dark and a hot spotlight lit up the stage. The show was about to begin. Eddie was no longer able to spot Waylon in the crowd. He could hardly believe it was happening. He stood frozen backstage without realizing that Frank Manera had already walked out to the middle of the stage where he stood, silhouetted by the lights.

Walking behind Frank in a row were Chris Walker and Billy Hope, making their way toward their instruments. Though the darkness hid it, Eddie knew they were all smiling—Frank largest of all.

“Are you ready for the return of The Blood Sex Machine?” screamed Frank. The crowd immediately cheered in response to Frank’s powerful voice. Eddie had missed seeing Frank on stage. He transformed into a different person when he started singing. He really was a colorful character.

“We have a very special treat for you this evening, someone very important to us will be opening up our concert,” said Frank. A brief clatter of beats came from the drums. Chris was only warming up, but Miles was already staring at him as though he were the only person on the stage.

Waylon noticed the huge grin on Miles’ face, and the pride in his eyes. He wanted to feel that way. Waylon felt disappointed, but he was determined to enjoy the show anyways.

“I want you to put your hands together, for my best friend, Eddie Gluskin. He’s going to accompany me tonight with a special dedication for someone in the audience,” said Frank, as Eddie quickly stepped onto the stage from behind the curtain.

Waylon forgot how to breathe.

Eddie’s suit was completely black-somber, as if he were headed to a funeral. Black shirt, black boots, and a completely black jacket—even his tie was black. It was so fucking sexy. Tough while still maintaining a look of elegance. An acoustic guitar rested in Eddie’s hands and at that moment he glanced up at met Waylon’s eyes in the crowd. A gallant smile spread across his face and he gave a small wink that made Waylon blush.

How was it possible? Waylon’s heart raced in that moment. Both Miles, Lisa, and the rest of the group turned to see an astonished Waylon, shocked into speechlessness.

“Hello. I’m Eddie Gluskin.”

Eddie smiled to himself as he began to play his guitar. He hoped that the reference in his words, and deeds, would be clear to their intended target. His fingers moved over the strings and he was soon accompanied by Frank playing his own guitar. Drums and keyboard joined in, giving the song a much more aggressive tone than the original, country style of the song. Eddie’s voice resonated through the venue.

 _I keep a close watch on this heart of mine_  
_I keep my eyes wide open all the time_  
_I keep the ends out for the tie that binds_  
_Because you’re mine, I walk the line_

As he sang, Eddie’s eyes never left Waylon’s face. Waylon seemed unable to believe what he was seeing. Eddie looked ten to twenty times more attractive than ever standing there on stage. Waylon had not believed it was physically possible. Eddie’s voice was so melodious that Waylon would not have thought it would work with that particular song. But it did. His voice was a perfect fit. Johnny Cash was definitely Eddie’s style.

 _I find it very, very easy to be true_  
_I find myself alone when each day is through_  
_Yes, I’ll admit that I’m a fool for you_  
_Because you’re mine, I walk the line_

Eddie played the guitar well. His fingers moved so effortlessly, one might have believed it was a natural born ability. Waylon had not known that Eddie could even play the guitar. He had always appreciated Eddie’s deep voice, but had he really been able to sing and hold a tune so well? Then it dawned on Waylon. Eddie had been practicing. He and Frank Manera must have been practicing, all this time, while he was unable to meet with Waylon.

 _As sure as night is dark and day is light_  
_I keep you on my mind both day and night_  
_And happiness I’ve known proves that it’s right_  
_Because you’re mine, I walk the line_

Waylon felt moved as he watched Eddie. It was a great mixture of emotions, ranging from a desire to leap into Eddie’s arms, and shame that he had felt so bitter toward his lost time while Eddie had been planning something so special. The entire crowd was thrumming with excitement.

The pace of the sound was slightly more aggressive than the original, though the tune was kept faithful to Johnny Cash’s version. Chris played the drums well, and Frank did a great job coordinating his electric guitar accompaniment with Eddie’s acoustic guitar strumming. Eddie’s guitar was not completely acoustic since it had been connected to an amplifier to ensure it could be heard throughout the club.

 _You’ve got a way to keep me on your side_  
_You give me cause for love that I can’t hide_  
_For you I know I’d even try to turn the tide_  
_Because you’re mine, I walk the line_

Waylon’s entire body was vibrating. A feeling of tremendous heat welled inside of him, more than he had ever felt in the past. Waylon realized, in that moment, that Eddie Gluskin was more important to him than he had ever imagined. The man had actually managed to win his heart.

 _I keep a close watch on this heart of mine_  
_I keep my eyes wide open all the time_  
_I keep the ends out for the tie that binds_  
_Because you’re mine, I walk the line_

Eddie finished singing and played the last few guitar chords. The crowd cheered, excited at having heard such a great cover song. Eddie stared only at Waylon with a huge, warm smile on his face. Waylon experienced a rush of emotion he could not understand at that moment. His face was flushed bright red, the beer in his hand completely forgotten. Eddie was definitely special.

All of Waylon’s friends looked at the genuine smile on Waylon’s face and encouraged him to go and find his boyfriend. Eddie left the stage, despite the roaring demand for another performance. Eddie’s goal had never been to join Frank’s band and pretend to be a musician. He had only wanted to do something immensely special for the person he thought about the most in his life.

Waylon weaved in and out through the people in the crowd, lucky that there were no major obstacles between him and the stage. He made it to the backstage area and saw Eddie, partially illuminated by the light in the corridor coming from the stage behind him. Eddie set aside the guitar and turned to look at Waylon.

“Darling…did you enjoy the show?” asked Eddie. No verbal response was offered. Instead, Waylon launched himself into Eddie’s arms, forcing their lips together for a long, passionate kiss.

Eddie’s hands pressed firmly into Waylon’s back, forcing their bodies together, needing to hold him close after so long apart. He had missed that heat, that need to have Waylon at his side. There was nothing that compared to the feeling of having the person he liked next to him. He needed Waylon—just Waylon. The week apart had been extremely hard for them both.

“I missed you. I missed you so much this week, darling, I hope you can for…”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” whispered Waylon, his lips moving against Eddie’s as he spoke, eyes canted up to gaze into Eddie’s eyes. The look he received made everything clear. Miles had guessed correctly. Eddie had been working on a surprise.

Waylon’s head nestled against Eddie’s chest, breathing in the natural scent of Eddie, not wanting to let go of him any time soon.

They were both content, holding one another in silence. Something very important had been confirmed between them.

Now that Waylon had Eddie for himself, he wanted to walk the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was so important for me to have Eddie signing a Johnny Cash song. The mental image of Eddie singing was something I wanted to touch on at some point.
> 
> The “Hi, I’m Eddie Gluskin” refers to the way Johnny would perform on stage. He always said his name before starting to play while holding his guitar like a shotgun.
> 
> I was torn between having the singer be Waylon or Eddie, but Eddie’s voice is just so impressive and fit more with these kinds of songs and the country style. The description of Eddie’s clothes is also based on Johnny Cash—specifically the black suit he worn to one of his most famous performances, where he sang in a prison for different offenders. It was a famous moment in his career, and one he was criticized for, because he sang for an audience of murderers and criminals. 
> 
> He didn’t care that he was criticized though xD And the reference definitely fits Eddie’s lack of freedom when he was in the asylum. Plus,he would look sexy as hell in black.
> 
> Why no interactions between Chris and Miles yet? I am starting to slowly build their relationship. I am looking forward to writing so much fluff for them!!


	7. You Really Got Me Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many things went through Waylon’s mind as he watched Eddie singing on stage. There was admiration, joy, and especially desire. He could not wait another minute to be in Eddie’s arms. What would be the best way to reward Eddie for eliciting such a response?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed writing these beautiful scenes. I love this story!
> 
> You have no idea how much I like to write. My afternoon was a marathon because if I didn’t update soon, I would not have a chance to do so for a few days because of work. I used music from The Doors and Iggy Pop to create the scene in this chapter xD I find the music of The Doors highly suggestive.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! The first part was longer than I thought. Sometimes it’s hard to stop. I apologize for the length.
> 
> The title song this time is by Iggy Pop “You Really Got Me,” reflecting the feelings of Waylon while watching Eddie on stage.
> 
> Warning: Sex (8

**_Yeah, you really got me now  
You got me so I don’t know what I’m doing _ **

There were many conditions that Frank demanded in order for him to accept the “deal.”

Frank made it crystal clear that _all_ of his conditions had to be met in order for him to agree to help Eddie practicing playing his song on the acoustic guitar. One condition was that Eddie would stay until the band finished playing. It had been a reasonable request, at the time, as Frank took his band’s comeback show very seriously. Much to Eddie’s dismay, the condition became very difficult for him. Waylon complicated things.

Waylon’s legs gripped Eddie’s hips, trapping him against the hallway wall, hidden away behind the stage. Eddie devoured Waylon’s lips, unable to keep his hands away from Waylon’s body.

Eddie gently rubbed his hand along Waylon’s lower back before slowly lifting his shirt with one hand, while the other held onto Waylon’s thigh to make sure he was supported. Eddie took advantage of the angle to start grinding against Waylon, slow thrusts with his hips causing his groin to press against Waylon’s crotch.

Waylon kept both of his hands around Eddie, refusing to allow their lips to part for even a moment. His moans were muffled by the loud music coming from the stage. The convenient cover only encouraged Waylon to moan louder. Eddie’s lips moved away from Waylon’s for a moment to kiss and suck at his neck.

Waylon’s necklace hindered Eddie’s work, but he still managed to leave a sharp bite on the most sensitive area of his neck. Waylon gave a loud moan, arching his back, rolling his hips. It was the reaction Eddie had expected. During their time together, Eddie always paid extra attention to areas where Waylon was most sensitive. He smiled when he pulled away and admired the mark on Waylon’s neck.

“Darling…we need to stop,” said Eddie, his voice rough and low as he spoke the words close to Waylon’s skin. In reality, he had absolutely no desire to stop.

The week apart had been difficult for both of them. They had not had any sex during that time. Eddie was embarrassed to admit that Waylon was right about him. He was a pervert. The feeling of his hands on Waylon’s skin had become an addiction. Eddie should behave like the responsible adult of the relationship, even though it was painful in that moment. Eddie gently lowered Waylon back to the ground, afraid of the look of disappointment he was sure would be on his face.

Their bodies remained very close. Eddie could smell Waylon’s familiar and intoxicating aroma. He never wanted to move his face away from Waylon’s neck. Waylon ran his hands up Eddie’s chest, stroking over the fabric of the black shirt. He refused to allow Eddie any time to catch his breath. Waylon grinned, knowing that neither of them wanted to stop. Waylon was just as anxious as Eddie in that respect. They both really enjoyed sex.

“I want you,” admitted Eddie, cupping Waylon’s face in his hands as he peppered his lips and chin with kisses and tiny bites.

Waylon’s hand sought out Eddie’s growing erection through his pants, decidedly not helping the situation. Eddie slid both hands around Waylon and gripped his ass, squeezing. Both men were equally turned on. But the concert could come to a screeching halt at any moment.

“Then what are we waiting for?” asked Waylon, glancing toward the stage.

Frank’s voice reverberated through the venue, accompanied by the adoring cries of the crowd. It was amazing how many fans had shown up for the show. Despite being regarded as a local band, The Blood Sex Machine had managed to extend to a few different states. Perhaps there was a future for the band, after all.

“I promised Frank we would stay until they finished playing. Knowing Frank, he’s going to extend the concert just to make me suffer,” said Eddie, giving an exasperated sigh.

Eddie’s hands never left Waylon’s body, holding him close. Waylon leaned into Eddie’s broad chest, nuzzling against his neck and sighing. Waylon’s smile was full of love and happiness. There were many emotions rushing through his body, and they were all because of the man he held in his arms.

“You mean, to make us both suffer,” said Waylon. “Come on, Eddie. I’ll let you take me as many times as you want, tonight.” Despite his calm, innocent expression, Waylon’s suggestive tone was laden with sensuality. Eddie swallowed loudly.

Eddie’s face burned and his entire body reacted to the slightest stimulus. Waylon knew exactly what to say and do to keep Eddie perpetually in such a sensitized state. Eddie reached out and groped Waylon’s crotch.

“I’m going to make you mine right here if you don’t behave...”

“Do it,” said Waylon, his eyes flashing a challenge. Eddie was more than willing to accept. His mind raced through their options.

They could attempt to get to the darkest place in the area, though they risked being discovered. His brain struggled to think rationally. Eddie’s only urge in that moment was to feel Waylon. He pushed Waylon gently against the wall and reached down to pull one of Waylon’s legs up. They had to hurry.

To their surprise, the ringing of a guitar and Frank’s powerful voice both ceased in that moment. The last song ended. Frank thanked the public for all of their support and plugged their new album that was scheduled to release in the future. _Shit_ , thought Eddie as he listened to Frank’s final comments. He released Waylon’s leg and rushed to adjusted his wrinkled clothing. It almost seemed as though Frank was ruining their moment on purpose. Knowing Frank, he probably was. It was like a superpower Frank possessed.

“Eddie-boy! What a surprise to see you here…and you’re even still mostly dressed,” said Frank, his tone mocking as he took in the sight. Waylon’s shirt was still raised up and Eddie’s hair had become disheveled during their heavy make out session. Frank’s smile stretched wide, knowing that the reaction meant Waylon had enjoyed Eddie’s surprise.

“What did you think of your boyfriend up there, Way?” asked Frank.

“Very impressive. I can barely keep my hands off of him. I’m definitely Eddie’s number one groupie…I’ve always have been,” said Waylon. His words caused a bright blush to break out on Eddie’s face. The color deepened when Waylon slipped a hand beneath his jacket behind his back to grope his ass.

Eddie was grateful that the area was so dark, concealing Waylon’s actions. Though Frank apparently had the power to see in the dark because, despite his dark glasses and the low lighting, Frank’s smile stretched with equal parts mockery and admiration.

“That’s what lover-boy wanted, to fuck like rabbits all night long.”

“Frank!” exclaimed Eddie.

“What? I’m being honest,” said Frank.

Waylon could not stop himself from chuckling at the comment as he rose onto his toes to press a little kiss to Eddie’s lips. Waylon was very excited. His mother was the only person to ever sing a song to him before that night. Waylon had never imagined something like Eddie’s show—not in his wildest fantasies. He could not dream up someone willing to face a large audience in a bar with the sole purpose of doing something special for him. The song was beautiful, and it brought a warm feeling in Waylon’s chest that he had never experienced before. He could not stop smiling at Eddie.

“I’ve never seen Waylon to happy,” said Miles. “Not even after that first night you two met.” Lisa Clawson was right behind him, wearing an equally excited smile and walking to stand near Eddie.

“Seriously, that was amazing! Awesome show, you guys! Especially you, Eddie. I’m not sure we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Lisa Clawson, a friend of Miles and Way…”

“I’m Eddie Gluskin, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance…”

“Enough formalities,” said Frank, interrupting Eddie’s greeting, “let’s celebrate! We’ve got tons of beers back here, you’re all welcome to hang around, even you, brat.” Eddie’s glares at Frank had become so common that most people present just ignored them.

The group moved to the backstage area, partially illuminated by some lights, and outfitted with some chairs, a large mirror, and even some shelves and a stereo that played music. It was a nice area for the bands to relax after the concerts.

Eddie held Waylon’s hand as they walked, noting how Waylon never stopped staring at him. Waylon’s smile was worth all of the sacrifices of constant practice with Frank. Both Frank and Eddie had little patience and hot tempers. This made for interesting conditions when they attempted to work together. Frank’s screams had not been helpful at first. Eddie believed it would take a miracle for him to be able to actually play chords on stage. He had regretted the deal in those moments, but after all was said and done, Waylon’s reaction made it all worthwhile. His dreamy smile and the way his body remained glued to Eddie’s side as they walked.

“Darling, do you want to stay, or…”

“We can stay for a beer. I think we owe it to the guys…”

Waylon was right. They had never gone anywhere with Waylon’s group of friends as an official couple and backstage was the perfect opportunity. Eddie sighed and slid his arm around Waylon’s waist. He fought to keep the disappointment from reaching his face. The gathering was certain to spin out of control in short time, especially with Frank and Miles both in attendance. The two had a tendency to speak sarcastically and exchange insults. It was especially bothersome since Eddie had a couple of things in his pants begging for attention.

To Eddie’s surprise, being an official couple was more enjoyable than he expected.

Lisa was talking, or rather attempting to talk, to Billy. He seemed to be giving a lesson in sign language. Billy was there with Natasha, a girl he had started dating a few weeks prior, which came as a surprise to his friends. Billy was not the kind of person to have many relationships, and he was very reserved in his personal life. For a long time, in Billy’s childhood, everyone had assumed that Billy really was deaf and dumb. It was a surprise to everyone when they finally heard him speak out loud.

Natasha and Billy had met at a gathering for people with hearing problems. Billy was very active within several associations within the deaf community. Although he did not have problems hearing, Billy was dedicated to the cause, having mastered sign language to the point that he now taught others how to sign, as well as supporting other activities within the association.

At many of the meetings, Natasha had assumed that Billy was deaf and mute, because they had never spoken in way other than through signing. It was a surprise to her when they began to communicate and Billy revealed that he did not have the same hearing problems.

Natasha was very cute. She had auburn hair that hung to the middle of her back, bright gray eyes, and a warm, enthusiastic smile. Natasha had lost her hearing during an accident when she was thirteen. The transition had been difficult at the time, accepting the idea of losing her hearing, and having to learn how to use sign language.

At twenty three, Natasha felt somewhat embarrassed by her struggles with sign language considering how signs changed meaning depending on region. She had to constantly practice to master the more nuanced aspects of sign language. Billy was there to help her practice and learn new things. They met thanks to that tutoring and began dating shortly after. The group had never seen Billy that happy or comfortable with another person.

Billy’s friends were happy, although it took them by surprise. Frank had the strange habit of taking his friends ‘under his wing.” He could become extremely jealous regarding his friends’ relationships. Potential partners were rarely good enough to meet Frank’s expectations for his friends

Eddie’s old relationships had been monitored by Frank to the point where it felt like spying. In the past, Eddie had predominantly dated women, though there had been a couple of men over the years. Still, Waylon had been a revelation for everyone—and now Natasha was the big topic of discussion.

Meanwhile, Miles was lost in thought.

Chris sat on one of the couches near the door, followed closely by Miles’ watchful eye. Miles held an internal debate with himself as he held a couple of beers in his hands. Would it be too bold to invite Chris to a beer right then? He had never had a long conversation, except for the night they had met. Miles thought it was a great opportunity to approach Chris. He decided to make his move, but his steps were too slow and nervous.

Chris smiled as Miles approached, and it caused Miles to look away, his cheeks burning. He extended a beer out with trembling hands. His friends took notice of his nervous behavior. Miles’ adorable bumbling around Chris was entertaining to watch.

“Hey Chris…uh…you want a beer?”

“Sure, Miles! Thanks for bringing me one,” said Chris. His hand spread out as he reached for the beer and, for a brief moment, their fingers touched. Miles felt his heart hammering in his chest. _I’m pathetic_ , he thought, but he could not avoid these types of reactions when he was so close to Chris.

“Great concert, by the way,” said Miles, stuttering through his nerves. “You’re always great on the drums, you’re really good…”

“Thanks, I just do what I like, and I guess it shows in my performance,” said Chris. He managed to open his beer without difficulty and stared as Miles struggled to open his due to nerves. Chris reached out and grabbed Miles beer, holding it in his hand as he opened it easily. He smiled as he extended the bottle back toward Miles. Miles quickly took a long, deep drink.

“Thanks…I’m weak or something…”

“You’re definitely not weak,” said Chris, smiling as Miles took another sip of his beer. Miles wondered if Chris knew exactly what that small gesture of kindness meant to him.

Miles was not sure what kind of conversation he might have with Chris, but he really wanted to try. It was amazing how Chris was always on his mind—Miles had dreamed up a thousand scenarios about them taking, spending time together, smiling at inside jokes, and any other number of scenes he had pictured over and over again. Then as soon as he was in front of Chris, all of his thoughts evaporated completely. He hated his traitorous mind at that time.

“I’m really glad you could come, Miles,” said Chris, his gravely voice pulling Miles away from his own frustrated thoughts. It seemed that the pounding in Miles’ chest would not be going away anytime soon that night.

Chris’ voice was serious, but there was also a softness to it. He sounded kind. The same kindness that was evident in his face, his posture, and the particular way that he treated everyone as if they were important, no matter how insignificant they may feel. The room seemed to go silent, as if the rest of the band members and friends faded to the background. Miles focused on Chris—his smile, his sincere expression, the way his words had sounded like a confession. Maybe others might not have seen the simple words as being anything important, but the impact of those simple words shook Miles to his core.

Miles’ tightened his grip on his beer bottle, staring down as he considered the best way to answer the sentiment. Miles was the kind of person who could face anything. He was not afraid or anything and tended to be too impulsive and risky for his own safety.

Miles had been present at several demonstrations, assisted with different important movements, and even traveled to the desert once with the intend of unmasking a corporation’s wrongdoings. He had needed Waylon’s help after that.

None of those previous challenges came close to the challenge of confronting his feelings. He cursed himself for being so inexperienced in that area. He had never put any serious time or thought into having a relationship.

 _What a waste of time_ , he thought to himself, wishing he could go back in time, punch his former self in the face, and encourage him to spend his time better. He really needed that knowledge of dealing with relationships that night as he stood staring at Chris.

“Well…you know, I’m your number one fan, so, I wouldn’t miss your amazing comeback for the world,” said Miles. The answer seemed stupid, but he could not think of anything more interesting to dd.

Miles bit his lower lip, a common habit when he was nervous. It suddenly felt like all eyes in the room were on their interactions. Miles was not intimidated by the attention, though he would rather there was less notice, especially since his task was complicated by having an audience.

Miles glanced over at Waylon for support and his friend thrust his chin in Chris’ direction and made a face that said Miles needed to talk more. Waylon was completely absorbed with Eddie at that moment, but he also knew what an important step this was for Miles. Usually he would only stand to the side ,watching Chris from afar. Miles lifted his beer again and took a deep drink that left the bottle near empty. The atmosphere between him and Chris was tense. He hoped the beer could alleviate some of that.

Frank was being his usual self. There were a few beer bottles lying around him within a short time, and he had brought out two of his guitars to sit beside him on the couch, as though they were people. He was handling Marie, claiming she needed a thorough tuning after she’d been touched by Eddie’s common, mortal hands that were more suitable for sewing. Frank fussed as though his lover had been desecrated by another man and it was his duty to give her the attention she deserved. Despite wearing his dark glasses, the smug grin of satisfaction was evident on his face.

Frank’s band was together again, and there were new people in his circle. In other times, Frank may have found the new additions irritating, but that night, he was in a good mood. Especially now that Eddie was hanging out easily as one of the gang.

Frank thought that Waylon really was a good guy. Maybe he could be impulsive, stubborn, and insecure in many ways, but there was no doubt that there was something about him—something that made Eddie really happy. The change in Eddie’s personality since Waylon had come into his life was noticeable to Frank.

Frank had never been the kind of person to feel excited about other people's relationships, but even he was pleased about Eddie and Waylon being together. They were a perfect pair.

As for Billy, he was always a mystery, even to his friends. Frank loved all of his friends and made a point to be present in all their important moments, but Billy had always been secretive about his relationships.

It did not take much to see how clear it was that Billy and Natasha got along quite well. Billy never left her side. Anytime someone was speaking too quickly for her to understand she would turn to look at Billy, who would quickly begin speaking in sign language to explain the conversation.

There was definitely something in the way Natasha smiled at Billy, the way he held her hand gently, and always considered her needs. Billy had always been considerate of others, despite his inscrutable personality. Frank had not expected him to find the right person that would fit with his unique personality.

As for Chris, well, he was great. The best man that Frank knew. Since they had met and began hanging out together, Chris had quickly become the person in charge of caring for the group. He was always the rational one, along with Billy. They both had a similar personality, always careful and responsible, while Eddie and Frank had more explosive personalities, easily prone to anger. The difference was that Frank was actually _proud_ of his impulsive nature.

It was that impulsive behavior that brought about crazy ideas, such as starting a band together, traveling around the country, and doing different things that brought them all closer together as friends. Frank never regretted the day he was invited into Eddie Gluskin’s house as a child and began to forge a friendship that lasted for years. He would never say anything so sappy aloud, though.

Everyone could tell that Miles Upshur had strong feelings for Chris. The brat was far too obvious in his interactions. The way he looked at Chris, smiled dreamily at him, and was always the first to “like” anything Chris posted on any of his social networks, no matter how insignificant.

Miles was not exactly Frank’s favorite person. Frank found Miles to be an extremely nosy and arrogant person, but it was rather amusing to watch him chase after Chris.

Chris had many friends, but many people could be shallow, and it had led to many uncomfortable moments in the past. People tended to be biased about appearances, especially on the issue of weight. Chris did not seem to mind the comments on his looks, and he remained rather closed off to the idea of having a romantic relationship.

Frank, and the rest of the group, found it unusual that Chris was not with someone at that point in his life. He was a great guy and would have no problem winning someone over if he desired. Frank definitely had to give Miles points for his persistence.

Interactions between the two had been slow and almost nonexistent, but Miles never gave up trying. It really showed how much he liked Chris. Frank was happy to wait and see how things evolved between the two, though he felt they were aimed at good things in the future.

As for Frank, he never felt the urge to have someone at his side. He was too happy on his own to stress about romance. He had his guitars, his friends and band mates, and lots of different things left to experience in life. There was plenty of time, and Frank was determined to make the most of it.

Everyone continued talking and hanging out as the evening wore on. Eddie had finally managed to sit on a couch with Waylon in his lap, refusing to be separated for even a moment. Waylon’s clear eyes never stopped staring at him.

Waylon frequently leaned in and placed light kisses to Eddie’s face, causing him to smile wider each time. Eddie was fascinated with these new interactions, enjoying the fact that Waylon was being so affectionate, even in public.

Eddie didn’t care what the rest of the people thought as they watched those affections. Actually, he did not care about anything in that moment, except for the body pressed against him. He wrapped his arms around Waylon’s waist and held him as they sat. Waylon leaned in to whisper something right against Eddie’s ears.

“I really need you inside of me right now…” Waylon was never shy about telling his partner what he wanted. A gentle nip to Eddie’s ear lob followed the sentence, awakening something in Eddie that was better saved for somewhere more private.

Soon, they both stood up. Waylon’s smile stretched across his face as he pulled Eddie’s hand, tugging him through the room toward the door. They had to pass by Frank who sat silently like some kind of sentinel for the group.

“Where are you two lovebirds going in such a hurry?” asked Frank.

“Come on, Frank,” said Waylon. “We’ve hung out long enough. Please, just let me take my boyfriend somewhere more private? I need to show him _exactly_ how much I enjoyed his performance.” Waylon’s voice was filled with urgency, prompting Eddie and Frank to look at him with surprise.

Eddie smiled at the sincerity in Waylon’s words. He only hoped that Waylon’s plea was enough to move Frank so they could leave together. Frank cleared his throat, as though preparing to make an announcement.

“Very well, Lover Boy,” said Frank. “You are released from your tasks and obligations for the night, but, rest assured, this week there will be several commands coming, now that I’m your owner. You will really want to keep this fuck in mind for when you are doing all the terrible chores I have in mind for you, Ed…”

“Alright…whatever you say,” said Eddie, though he hated that the words even came from his mouth. Accepting Frank’s conditions went against his nature, but there was no time to take it back. He would have to face the consequences.

Waylon nodded quickly, pulling Eddie’s hand and leading him directly toward the exit. He turned his head to make sure that Miles was still engaged in his awkward interactions with Chris. Waylon was sure the goofy grin would remain plastered to Miles’ face for days. Lisa seemed equally enthusiastic about learning some sign language. She was practicing, and already making great improvements, judging by the others’ reactions.

In that moment, the only thing that mattered to Waylon was that he and Eddie were finally walking to the car. He could barely contain the desire to throw himself into Eddie’s arms and kiss him. Waylon needed to feel Eddie’s lips and hands all over his body. The waiting was painful, but necessary.

Waylon wanted things to be different that night. The atmosphere between them already felt completely different from other nights. He found it difficult to concentrate, since his brain kept bringing up the picture of Eddie alone, on stage, singing to him, eyes focused only on him.

A fluttering feeling manifested inside Waylon’s gut. He always felt it when he was thinking about his relationship with Eddie. His boyfriend had done the impossible, and Waylon had to repay him somehow. He had to make it special.

“What time do you need to be home tonight?” asked Eddie as they settled into the car and he leaned over toward Waylon’s side slowly. He kissed Waylon’s neck slowly and gently while placing a hand on his thigh. Waylon closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest on the passenger seat.

“It’s okay,” said Waylon, his voice coming out breathy and jagged as Eddie began to suck the sensitive parts of his neck. It never failed to make Waylon groan uncontrollably. “I can sleep over at your place. I’m all yours tonight.”

The ride to Eddie’s house was short that evening. Waylon’s statement had surprised Eddie, but he accepted it without comment. Rational thought became more difficult for Eddie as they rushed into the house and resumed kissing. It left altogether once he had Waylon imprisoned against the wall, kissing him in the entry way.

Waylon’s soft sounds were muffled by Eddie’s lips, and he seemed unwilling to relinquish any claim on Waylon’s body or mouth. Eddie pressed him hard into the wall and lifted one of Waylon’s legs, granting him better access to Waylon’s crotch. He quickly moved his hands to grope Waylon’s hardening member through his pants. Waylon was surprised. He had assumed that he was the one most desperate for relief.

“Eddie,” said Waylon, pressing his hands into Eddie’s broad chest. Eddie’s attentions continued without pause. There was a glint in his eyes, dilated with desire. It was not the first time Waylon had seen that expression. It had been there the first night when they met and had sex.

“What’s wrong, darling? You seem surprised,” said Eddie, even his voice sounding different than usual. He reminded Waylon of a hungry predator. Eddie’s hands quickly opened Waylon’s fly and he pushed his hand under Waylon’s boxers, brazenly stroking his cock. A groan of surprise came from Waylon’s lips.

“E-Eddie,” stuttered Waylon between moans. He was accustomed to having some control over the situation, but it seemed that Eddie had also grown accustomed to their constant sexual activities. Eddie continued his relentless caresses all over Waylon’s body, making it impossible for him to contain his reactions.

“Hmm?” hummed Eddie. “What do you want, darling?” Eddie’s voice was lower than usual. It sounded so sexy. A slow growl escaped his lips as his teeth lightly grazed Waylon’s chin. Waylon grasped Eddie’s hand, though it never left his pants, and the attention to his erection only grew more vigorous. Waylon squeezed his eyes closed and used all of his self-control to speak.

“I want to go to your room, Eddie,” said Waylon, an authoritative tone creeping into his voice. “That’s what I want.” Eddie opened his eyes and ceased his actions for a moment.

Eddie pulled back to meet Waylon’s eyes, finding them dilated with lust, but out of place on the unsure expression on his face. Waylon sighed as he leaned in and left a soft, chaste kiss on Eddie’s lips. It was unusual that Waylon would be the one being so romantic while Eddie was consumed by his primal instincts.

“I want tonight to be…different,” said Waylon. “We’ve never done it in your bed. We never make it.”

Eddie looked away at the statement. How was it his partner, who was younger than him, had noticed an important detail like that while it slipped his mind? Their interactions were always crude, thinking only of their base desires. Eddie slowly withdrew his hand from Waylon’s pants. He sighed and kissed Waylon again, much slower—more loving.

“I’m sorry, darling, I seem to have lost my manners,” said Eddie, his voice sounding distressed as he reached for Waylon’s hand, lifting it to his lips to place a gentlemanly kiss on the back of his fingers. Waylon had to laugh at the overly dramatic reaction. Eddie always loved to include these dramatic flairs.

“I’ll be waiting upstairs. Do you mind getting me some cold water? I think I could use some right now,” said Waylon.

Eddie could only nod as Waylon hurried up the stairs, a knowing smile on his face before he disappeared. Eddie hurried to fetch a bottle of water and a couple of glasses. He walked up the stairs toward the bedroom. He slowly opened the door and stared, the view leaving him stunned by an intense wave of desire.

Waylon sat on the bed wearing one Eddie’s white button down shirts, which came down to the top of Waylon’s thighs. The shoulders were too wide, exposing large portions of his skin on his neck, shoulders, and chest. Waylon’s clothes were strewn about the room, littering the floor, as though tossed aside in a rush. Eddie did not care about the mess. All he cared about was the way that Waylon rose on his knees and crawled to the edge of the bed, sliding his arms around Eddie’s neck.

“Welcome,” said Waylon before pressing his lips to Eddie’s. He started a slow kiss while he pulled Eddie closer to the bed until their bodies were dangerous close.

Eddie desperately wanted to grab Waylon’s hips, but the bulky glasses and bottle of water he was holding prohibited such actions. Waylon quickly grabbed the bottle of water, realizing Eddie’s dilemma. His head tilted back as he continued to drink the entire bottle in one gulp, uncaring when some of the water poured down the front of his white shirt. The garment soon became transparent, resulting in Eddie practically jumping onto the bed on top of him.

Waylon’s body fell back on the bed. He could feel Eddie’s breath seep through the thin, damp material of his shirt, causing him to shudder. Eddie’s hands were suddenly everywhere again as they rushed to pull Waylon’s pants free. Soon Waylon was moaning at the friction as the thin fabric of his boxers rubbed against the thick fabric of Eddie’s pants.

The bottle and glasses were dropped at some point as Waylon pushed the dark jacket off of Eddie’s shoulders. He quickly unbuttoned Eddie’s shirt, loosening his tie as he did. The task was complicated by the fact that Eddie did not pause in his attentions to Waylon’s body. They were both caught up in their intense need.

Waylon lifted his head when Eddie sat up enough to remove his shirt, a predatory smile spreading across his face as he tossed aside the black shirt, leaving only the a tie around his neck. Waylon could not tear his eyes away from the fierce look on Eddie’s face, his hips rolling beneath Eddie.

“What do you want tonight, darling?” asked Eddie as he slowly pulled down Waylon’s boxers. Waylon facilitated the task by lifting his legs while staring at Eddie with a hungry expression of his own.

“I want you to _devour me_ …”

Eddie lifted Waylon’s shirt and began to lick and bite across his collarbone, as though the statement had been a command. The breathy moans Waylon made were all the encouragement Eddie needed to continue his actions, leaving wet, red welts across Waylon’s skin. It was not the first time Eddie had left Waylon marked by his teeth, but Waylon could feel that Eddie was more enthusiastic, and his bites sharper—hungrier. Waylon loved it.

Eddie could not help but compare Waylon’s desperate sounds to a sort of meow, causing Eddie to break out in a grin close to Waylon’s skin. He stared up at Waylon’s face, twisted in pain and pleasure. He knew that he should calm down, but he could no longer contain the need to feel him completely.

“You sound like a cat in heat, darling…Do you want me to make you purr?” asked Eddie, leaning in to lick teasingly at one of Waylon’s nipples. Waylon’s eyes could barely stay open as he took in all of the different sensations on his skin.

Eddie’s hands were not still. Waylon’s boxers had been cast aside, leaving his leaking, needy erection bare between his legs. Eddie’s fingers expertly reached for Waylon’s length. Waylon responds with a hand tight on Eddie’s thighs before sliding up to rub his back.

Eddie knew Waylon had a fixation on rubbing his back, so it was not surprising that he would want to touch him that way. Waylon just smiled slightly, unable to control his moans. Eddie gently bit down on Waylon’s nipple, leaving it wet and erect before moving to the other side. Waylon groaned, surprised at the action.

“Dammit, Eddie, you’re going to make me come too soon…”

“Come. It won’t be the last time before the end of the night.” Eddie’s words resounded as a personal challenge. Waylon craned his neck to keep Eddie’s face in view as he slowly descended, kissing and biting down Waylon’s body. Waylon had never seen the look that Eddie gave as he licked his lips, staring down at Waylon.

“Hmm…looks like someone needs some attention,” said Eddie, his fingers sliding up and down Waylon’s entire length, admiring the way Waylon writhed at his touch. Eddie’s devilish smile widened as he brought his lips to the tip of Waylon’s cock.

The initial cold flick of Eddie’s tongue was soon offset by the feeling of his hot mouth wrapping around Waylon’s shaft. His back arched immediately, eyes closing as he pushed back into that warmth.

Waylon was accustomed to performing oral sex. It was one of the things he liked most when having sex, but there had only been a few times that he had received that type of attention. Usually, he was uncomfortable by the inexperience of his partners. Many were experimenting with men for the first time and had never taken care of another man that way. They saw Waylon as a chance to try something new. None of his former lovers had been as attentive as Eddie. _None of his past lovers had been Eddie_. Waylon was filled with a sense of warmth and security, as if he knew things would always work out. He was getting used to the feeling of having a sexual relationship with deeper emotions involved. Sex with feeling was a completely new experience for him.

Soon, Eddie’s mouth was working up and down his length. The feeling of warmth seemed to spread out across his entire body. Waylon’s moans were constant and when his eyes met Eddie’s while he was looking up from his work, a feeling like electricity ignited his insides.

Eddie’s movements were quiet as he enjoyed himself. He felt a certain pride to provoke such reactions in Waylon’s body. He could not tear his eyes away from Waylon—the redness of his chest, his heavy breathing. It was clear he was enjoying Eddie’s work.

It was the first time that Eddie had performed oral sex on Waylon, and he was doing great. At no time did Waylon feel uncomfortable, having the right mix of tongue and teeth. Eddie’s tongue ran slowly and patiently over every inch of Waylon’s cock, saliva dripping down his shaft as Eddie’s mouth moved up and down in a steady motion.

Eddie began to pick up the pace, slightly. His eyes closed as he let his head go up and down in continuous movements. Maybe he was no expert in the act, but ultimately, Waylon seemed quite satisfied with his performance. Eddie made a note to try this type of act more often, especially because of the erotic reactions it invoked from his partner. Waylon slowly raised his head, watching as Eddie worked, completely focused on his task, and something clicked in his mind. This was not the way the night was supposed to go.

“E-Eddie…please…” Waylon’s voice was deeply affected as he gripped Eddie’s black locks and attempted to pry him away. Waylon’s whole body was succumbing to the pleasure Eddie was granting him, in complete opposition to his attempts to pull away. The growing sensation of warmth in his groin told him he would not last long under these conditions.

“I…I want you to lie back on the bed…Eddie…” Waylon tugged at Eddie’s hair, causing his eyes to cant up and his brows to raise in a look of surprise and self-doubt. Eddie really did not want to stop. He had begun to enjoy his work very much. Watching Waylon’s eyes glaze over was exciting, and Eddie yearned to see more. He wanted to hear and see Waylon overcome with pleasure.

“Am I doing something wrong, darling?” asked Eddie, doubt spreading across his face, causing Waylon to smile gently. If their faces had been closer together, Waylon would have kissed that look right off of Eddie’s face.

“You did something really special for me tonight. I’m the one who should… _thank_ you for that. I love the way it feels, Eddie, it’s amazing…but, _I want to pleasure you_. Could you please lie down on the bed?”

Eddie stared for a moment before finally nodding. He moved slowly, rubbing his nose against Waylon’s skin, breathing in the scent of his sweat and arousal. Finally, their lips brushed one another as they were face to face again.

“Whatever my boyfriend wants,” said Eddie, kissing Waylon’s lightly before settling on his back on the bed, looking up expectantly.

Waylon struggled to formulate a coherent thought after all the excitement. It made it very difficult to out of bed and retrieve the bottle of lube. Eddie usually kept one near in the house at all times, and that night it was set aside near the bed for easy access. A smile spread across his face as he retrieved the lubricant and turned a knowing gaze back onto Eddie.

“Someone’s prepared,” said Waylon, grinning at Eddie. “Was this part of your plan tonight then, Gluskin? You planned on fucking me here?”

The mocking tone. Ultimately, that was the side of Waylon that Eddie knew best. The young man who always kept a nonchalant attitude at all times. A young man who was finally learning new things, like letting go and enjoying the moment. The same person that eventually settled on the bed next to his body and began to unbutton his black pants. As soon as Eddie’s erection was freed, Waylon poured a good amount of lubricant over his hand and stroked Eddie, distributing it evenly over the tip and down to the top of Eddie’s balls.

Eddie had been ignoring his own arousal since they began. He closed his eyes slightly, a deep moan leaving his lips at the pleasant feeling. The way Waylon devoted himself to the task, giving careful attention to every inch, lithe fingers running along Eddie’s most sensitive areas. Once again, Eddie found himself submitting to his partner in bed. As soon as Eddie was prepared to Waylon’s satisfaction, Waylon put his legs on either side of Eddie, coated his fingers with the lubricant, and spread his legs as a sly smile crept onto his face.

Watching Waylon prepare himself was, without a doubt, one of the most erotic images Eddie had seen in his entire life. Waylon began to first slide in one finger, his face creased with discomfort. He pushed his finger in and out quickly as his head dropped back, exposing the collection of marks Eddie had left on the sensitive skin of his neck and collarbone. A second finger joined and Eddie watched as Waylon began to stretch himself, using a scissoring motion with the two digits. Eddie squeezed Waylon’s hips, tilting them as he assisted with supporting Waylon, not wanting to lose sight of his movements for even a second. Eddie’s eyes managed to turn even darker with desire. He needed to feel Waylon; needed to feel his tight insides. He desperately needed to be buried in Waylon’s heat.

“Darling…”

“I think I’m ready.” Waylon’s voice pulled Eddie from his own desperate thoughts. Waylon’s fingers abandoned their task and he began the slow process of impaling himself on Eddie’s slick cock. There was a fleeting twinge of pain, followed by a deep moan from both men.

Waylon’s warmth enveloped him. Eddie could barely contain the gasping sounds leaving his lips as he clutched Waylon’s hips. Waylon looked equally aroused, hands pressing into Eddie’s broad, bare chest. The movements were slow at first.

Eddie delved deeper inside of Waylon, assisted by Waylon’s weight on his lap. Eddie’s head raised off the bed as he gasped at the sensation of being so deep. Waylon used his legs to move, starting a slow, firm pace, allowing his hips to adjust on Eddie’s lap until their movements were in sync.

Eddie’s hips rose to meet Waylon’s movements, creating more friction inside of Waylon. The feeling awoke many reactions in Waylon’s body as he began sweating, heat radiating off of his body like electricity with an emphasis on his pelvis area.

The movements accelerated at a steady pace. Eddie was mesmerized. Watching Waylon bounce on top of his body, moaning and saying his name breathlessly, was an imagine he would cherish forever. Waylon held on tightly, trying to keep his increasingly rapid movements precise. Eddie could feel spasms in her hips becoming increasingly more intense. No doubt he was close to orgasm.

“Eddie…I want you to…I want to come together…”

“Hnnn...darling,” said Eddie, his voice much more serious and elevated as his climax hit. His head rose, along with his body, causing his hips to thrust upwards as he filled Waylon with his hot seed.

The feeling of his insides awash with heat caused Waylon to end at the same time, splattering Eddie’s bare stomach with come. His body immediately seemed to deflate as the last drips fell and Waylon almost collapsed on top of Eddie. His arm was pulled at the last second and Eddie maneuvered Waylon next to him on the bed, smiling at how tired and content Waylon looked after his orgasm. They shared a smile, full of contentment, before leaning in to kiss softly. They were both very sweaty—and sticky.

“I think we may have defiled your bed, Mr. Gluskin. What will your lover think about this?”

“I believe this imaginary lover would be offended that my real sex life is much more stimulating,” said Eddie before placing a light kiss to Waylon’s forehead as he snuggled against Eddie’s chest. With great difficulty, Eddie removed the remaining garments, noting how his pants were stained with both of their seed. But really, who cared? Feeling Waylon naked against his body was much more important at that time.

He knew they both needed to clean up, urgently, but the thought of Waylon’s body away from his seemed unreasonable. Waylon’s eyes were tired, but he still looked up, watching Eddie with that same dazzled expression he had used when Eddie was on stage.

Eddie had never had anyone look at him that way—like he was the only person in the room. The world. Eddie began to believe there was really no other person for him. With Waylon, he had a feeling of security he’d never experienced before. He was young, impulsive, but interesting in every way.

There was really nothing Eddie did not like. Eddie wanted to be there for Waylon at all times; he wanted Waylon there for every moment of his life. He was fully committed to their relationship, he realized.

“You were amazing today, Eddie,” said Waylon. His eyes closed in between yawns, but seemed unwilling to yield to the need for sleep. Waylon was too focused on admiring Eddie’s handsome face with his disheveled black hair and blue eyes staring back. Eddie always looked good to Waylon.

“You need rest, darling. It’s late and we really got a work out tonight,” said Eddie, his voice holding that same tired timbre. Both were slowly yielding to the fatigue threatening to overcome them. It was the first time Waylon had ever shared a bed with anyone. It was an entirely new level of intimacy for him.

They fell asleep shortly after. Two hours passed before Waylon slowly opened his eyes.

He had been dreaming—about his future.

Eddie had been in his dream. They were having a barbecue in their yard, and all their friends were present. He had never seen Eddie so happy. Everyone was smiling and happy, the same way they had been that night. Eddie’s eyes were as blue as the sky itself, and Waylon could not tear his eyes away from him. The pounding in his heart had felt so real, just like the first time he had received a call from Eddie after their first date. It was very difficult for Waylon to admit just how deep his feelings were for Eddie. They were so real—and so strong. Waylon knew he must have been interested in Eddie from the very beginning.

Waylon wished his dream could come true.

Waylon stared over at Eddie’s sleeping face as he slept on his side—the light from the window the only illumination. Waylon smiled. He felt a heat in his chest, and a feeling of contentment he had never experienced. Eddie’s face was always handsome, but something about how he looked while sleeping was inexplicably attractive. His face was soft, smooth. Waylon felt he would enjoy waking up to that sight every night.

A wave of emotions rose up so rapidly, Waylon had to lean in and place a light kiss on Eddie’s lips, trying not to wake him. One hand rested gently on Eddie’s cheek as he sighed. Ultimately, Waylon wanted it to be this way, every day and every night. He wanted to wake up without any worries, and always have this beautiful image of tranquility before his eyes. The thought was sappy, but maybe that was not really such a bad thing.

Waylon felt invested in his relationship with Eddie. He had never understood the way people described feeling about their partners, until that moment. The heat radiating from Eddie was a good feeling, especially when he slid an arm around Waylon, pulling his body flush against him as they embraced. Waylon wondered if Eddie was also dreaming about them. Waylon smiled as he got comfortable, curled up against Eddie’s broad chest, sighing. He had no desire to sleep because he was so fixated on Eddie’s pleasant, sleeping expression. If felt unreal to share a bed with someone and enjoy the feeling so much. It was a feeling that scared him, though it was sincere.

He had to admit--Eddie really had him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It always gives me jitters to post sex scenes! I still feel a little weird xD Leave comments to know what you think and keep me on track!


	8. I Want to be the Boy That Warms your Mother’s Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected even comes up, and Waylon could not feel more nervous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright…  
> The hype has arrived. I hope everyone is equally excited by the recent Outlast II gameplay. I’m so excited! Now, I want to know more about the story, and the characters, since this first look has left me with many questions. The hero speaks this time! That is very exciting.
> 
> I missed my babies in this story! I love them all so much.  
> The song this time is an implicit reference to The White Stripes with “I want to be the boy to warm your mother’s heart”

**I want to be the boy that warms your mother’s heart**   
**I’m so scared to take you away**   
**I tried to win her over right from the start**   
**But something always got in the way -   The White Stripes**

 

“It’s just a regular get together,” said Waylon, laughing as he pulled on a pair of Miles’ jeans. The two were almost the same size, and had a tendency to share clothing.

Miles remained silent, as though in a trance. Waylon knew why Miles was acting that way. They would need to talk more about it, soon. There was plenty the two needed to discuss, but Waylon was already late for work. Waylon wanted to hear more about Miles’ interactions with Chris that night, and he wanted to talk about his first time spending the night with Eddie. Waylon would spare no graphic details.

“I swear, I had never seen Eddie so nervous in the entire time we’ve been dating, not even when he was on stage…”

“Sounds like this is a pretty important event,” said Miles, barely looking up. Waylon nodded, knowing Miles probably had not paid any attention to his previous comment. He could not blame him.

“Sorry, I need to be dressed nicer…everything I wear is shit. Do you have something I can borrow?”

“You know my clothes are just as bad, Park,” said Miles. “Everything we wear tends to get destroyed.”

Waylon sighed. He would have to use part of his meager salary that week to buy some new clothes, even if it was just something simple. Anything that did not have stains or holes would be perfect. Too bad neither of them owned something like that.

Miles usually wore pants with torn knees, a selection of pseudo-military clothing with camouflage print, band shirts, and a black jacket. The jacket was tied around his waist more often than it was worn on his back. The clothes Miles’ mother bought for him always ended up in ruins. Mrs. Upshur had give up trying to dress Miles, and he had complete freedom to dress how he pleased.

“We should have saved something nice for use on special occasions,” said Miles.

“I know, we’re just one big fucking disaster after another,” said Waylon.

Waylon had spent virtually all afternoon at Eddie’s house the day before. Waylon woke up, the morning after the concert, feeling the warmth of strong arms wrapped around his body, resting on his waist. By raising his head slightly, Waylon could stare at Eddie’s quiet, gentle face. He was completely comfortable in his sleeping position, having Waylon within his grasp.

Waylon was partially laying on Edie’s broad chest, sensing the gentle rise and fall of each breath, and feeling his heartbeat. It was very pleasant. Waylon did not want to move—he wanted to stay in that position as long as possible. He slowly lifted his head, inhaling Eddie’s manly scent. The scent was strong so close up, and it was better than Waylon could have imagined.

Waylon had never experienced anything so intimate in his short life. He had spent the night, and run away in the morning, on countless occasions with past partners. He had never woken up with someone like that. Waking up next to Eddie, feeling his steady breathing—it was one of the most amazing feelings Waylon had ever experienced.

Waylon leaned in closer, rubbing his nose against his boyfriend’s neck, knowing he was especially ticklish there. The word ‘boyfriend’ still vibrated in Waylon’s mind every time he thought of it, as if the concert itself were a foreign word he needed to officially add to his vocabulary. Being someone’s boyfriend was a new experience—something he needed time to fully comprehend. Eddie opened his eyes after feeling Waylon moving and giggling in the bed.

“Hmm…Good morning,” said Eddie, his voice hoarse from sleep. His smile was tired and soft. Waylon thought he could get an erection just from seeing it.

“Good morning, Mr. Gluskin! How are you feeling about that hard fuck last night?” Waylon asked, brightly. He leaned in and began to kiss softly all over Eddie’s lips and face. Eddie’s eyes were barely open. The morning light illuminated his eyes, making them as blue as the sky.

“I feel pretty good, darling, but I may require an additional demonstration, just to be sure.” With one fluid motion, Eddie settled on top of Waylon’s body and began kissing and nipping at his neck.

Eddie was addicted to the skin of Waylon Park. He was not ashamed to admit it, despite feeling like a pervert. He valued having a young partner, always full of energy—always in tune with his body’s desires.

“A second round? You sure? You’re going to give yourself a heart attack, Gluskin…”

“Something is definitely about to get attacked, but it will not be my heart,” said Eddie. Waylon could not help but laugh at the comment.

The double entendre joke was one of the quirks about Eddie. He tended to make them only in private, between the two of them. It was a mark of intimacy between them. Proof of how familiar they had grown.

Eddie’s hands were quick to take action, starting to caress Waylon’s sides, lifting his head to reach Waylon’s lips. Waylon closed his eyes, losing himself in the pleasant feeling of Eddie’s warmth pressing down on top of him. He slid his hands up around Eddie’s neck. A nearby noise suddenly distracted them both. It was Eddie’s phone.

“One moment, darling,” said Eddie, looking peeved as he shifted to the other side of the bed, raising his torso, slightly, to reach the phone. Waylon looked askance at Eddie, a devious grin on his face.

Waylon was still wearing Eddie’s white shirt, but it was open and falling off of his shoulders, revealing a collection of red bite marks. Waylon loved the marks. He wanted to have even more marks from Eddie on his skin.

Waylon felt sweaty and sticky with both of their fluids, though it was not something that really bothered him. Waylon stared down at the thin blanket covering him from the waist down. He slowly began to push the coverings away causing Eddie to go quiet, a surprised look on his face, as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Soon, the sheet was barely covering Waylon at all.

“Yes, I’ve been well,” said Eddie, running his hand nervously over his black strands. No gesture was ever lost on Waylon. Perhaps Eddie was speaking to a client? Waylon had never seen him have that reaction before.

Waylon enjoyed eavesdropping on Eddie’s conversations with his customers. Eddie was always very friendly and charming, so much that Waylon was surprised none of Eddie’s clients had attempted to have a deeper relationship with him. In fact, Waylon found it strange that Eddie had no prospects before him, considering how handsome, gentlemanly, and attentive Eddie was toward his partner. It was almost theatrical the way Eddie behaved. He was like a specimen from the past, fresh out of the time machine. Sometimes, Waylon had some pretty strange thoughts about Eddie’s quirks.

Waylon raised up onto his knees and stretched like a cat before crawling slowly toward Eddie in a decidedly feline fashion. His thin arms were soon entangled around Eddie’s neck as he rested his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. A mischievous smile lifted his lips as he felt Eddie’s body tense, clutching the phone harder against his ear. Waylon proceeded to cover Eddie’s skin with small licks and kisses.

“Y-yes, yes…I regret not having seen you in a while, I’ve been rather busy with work…”

Waylon’s hands began to move across Eddie’s body. Fingers stroked across his chest before sliding down his abdomen with a slow, steady hand. Waylon loved the sensation beneath his fingers. He loved the reaction Eddie always had to his touch, the way his actions affected his voice. Waylon was addicted to awakening those reactions. He felt privileged that he was the cause of Eddie’s nervousness and excitement.

“Really? You don’t say…Well…well, yes, that’s true. I was waiting for the right time to tell you in person, I hoped we could have a dinner together to discuss it?”

Waylon leaned against Eddie and listened carefully. The voice on the other end of the phone was female.

Waylon pushed his face into Eddie’s neck, inhaling the scent of his skin. It filled Waylon with a contented feeling, that only made him want more. He pulled away just enough to catch Eddie’s ear between his teeth, pulling affectionately.

Eddie was unable to endure such treatment. He hooked one hand around Waylon while using the other to keep the phone pressed to his ear. It seemed impossible for Eddie to achieve both tasks. His hands were shaking as he attempted to pull Waylon into his lap without disrupting the call.

“I’m sorry, truly sorry. I know, I owe you an explanation. Of course, I love you too. See you soon.”

Waylon’s ears perked up at the last statement. He yelped in surprise and confusion as Eddie used both hands to grab Waylon and pull him roughly into his lap. Waylon could not resist being enveloped by Eddie’s strong arms as he held him.

“Do I have something to be worried about,” asked Waylon, a look of shy hesitation on his face when he glanced up at Eddie. It was strange. Eddie looked more nervous than anything else.

“That was my mother,” said Eddie. “She knows we’re a couple.”

A pregnant silence hung between them for several seconds. It was soon broken by the thunderous sound of laughter from Waylon Park.

“I was…did you get scolded over the phone?” asked Waylon, unable to keep the laughter out of his tone. Eddie avoided his eyes, staring off in the opposite direction. Waylon had seen similar avoidance behavior before. Eddie had the same reaction when Waylon had mentioned the special condoms.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Eddie…” said Waylon, settling better on Eddie’s legs and bringing his arms up to encircle his neck. He kissed Eddie, hands coming to hold both of Eddie’s cheeks.

“I’m an idiot, I never know when to take things seriously,” said Waylon, though Eddie did not answer. Waylon thought he looked like a child employing the use of the silent treatment. Waylon continued with his kisses, spreading across Eddie’s chin and cheeks. His smile was contagious. Eddie was unable to resist giving in to Waylon’s charms.

“How do you always manage to be so lovable? It should be illegal to be so adorable, darling…”

“It’s a gift we Park's naturally possess,” said Waylon, grinning. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“There was nothing to forgive,” said Eddie, leaning in to give Waylon’s lips the same treatment he had received. His hands tightened on Waylon’s hips as he sighed. It was always mesmerizing to look into Waylon’s bright, beautiful eyes. Waylon was liberal, emotional, impulsive, and Eddie’s mother valued a more traditional world view and tended to be very conservative. What kind of results could he expect from such a combination?

“Listen, darling, my mother wants to have dinner at her house this weekend. She wants to formally meet you. She is somewhat…perturbed, that I had not said anything to her before now. I have no idea how she learned about you, but I suspect Frank had a hand in the matter…”

“You think Frank would do that?” asked Waylon.

“The more you get to know him, the more you realize: Frank is capable of anything.”

Very carefully, Eddie settled back down on the bed, pulling Waylon with him. His arms remained wrapped around him, resting on his slim waist. Eddie pressed his nose into Waylon’s hair, enjoying the scent of his lover. Meanwhile, his hands continued to explore Waylon’s hips and waist.

“My mother is an outspoken women. Not too extreme, but she always tried to raise me the way she thought best. I think I have a lot of her personality in me…”

“Well, you know my mom, so I think I know what you mean,” said Waylon.

Both were silent for a moment, before Waylon relaxed into Eddie’s touch. He enjoyed the closeness, savoring the moment. Eddie’s hands felt really good on his body.

There was still an aura of nervousness about Eddie. Something in his face and the tone of his voice indicated this step was very important to him. Eddie had met Waylon’s mother, and things had turned out fine. Maybe Waylon would have the same result from meeting Eddie’s mother? Eddie’s nervousness seemed contagious.

“You think your mother will like me?” asked Waylon, cracking one eye open as he awaited Eddie’s reactions. In response, Eddie lowered his head and pressed his lips against Waylon's neck leaving a trail of slow, gentle kisses along the bruised bite marks.

“She’s going to adore you. Who could resist?” asked Eddie. A small laugh escaped Waylon’s lips as he leaned into Eddie. Waylon reached his free hand up to slide along Eddie’s chest, fingers playing lightly over warm skin. No one had ever said anything like that to Waylon before.

Waylon had always felt like an outcast, due to his unconventional lifestyle. How could a man like Eddie find him worthy of admiration? Additional kisses and caresses chased away his thoughts, and allowed Waylon to once again slip into relaxation. He could have fallen asleep right on top of Eddie.

“I guess I need to find something to wear, right? I have nothing decent to wear to a formal dinner…”

“Anything you wear is fine, darling, everything looks good on you.”

“Could you stop being so nice to me for five minutes? It’s dangerous, you could make me fall in love if you keep talking like that,” said Waylon, without thinking.

Waylon immediately regretted his choice of words, looking away to hide the distressed look on his face. He was grateful he was not face to face with Eddie. Eddie’s body bent forward slightly, pressing a pair of soft kisses onto Waylon’s cheeks while tightening his arms.

“Then I’ll just have to keep saying things like that all the time.”

After concluding his account of the day’s events, Waylon was quiet for a moment, anxious for his friend’s reaction. Miles stood thinking for a moment, resting his head on his worn pillow. Waylon was amazed that Miles had not looked at his phone even once during the duration of the story.

“So, you stayed the night, and the next morning he got a call from his mother, so now you have a date with Mrs. Gluskin, a known conservative and overprotection woman…”

“Yeah, that sums it up nicely…”

“You’re fucked, Way. Fucked.”

“Well, thanks so much for that supportive remark,” said Waylon, grabbing an extra pillow and using it to beat Miles. Miles quickly covered his face, laughing, as he deflected the attack and sat up next to Waylon on the bed.

“Chris Walker is the best thing that ever happened to me. Honestly. I say that without exaggeration…”

“So you two had sex yesterday?” asked Waylon.

“Of course not! I would never do something like that without some kind of commitment beforehand, you know that. Though, I guess that’s strange for some people…”

It was Waylon’s turn to hear the details of the previous night, from Miles’ point of view. Miles was ready to describe each moment in vivid detail. Waylon found it endearing to hear the enthusiasm in Miles’ voice as he spoke about Chris. Waylon hoped this was the beginning of some real progress in their relationship.

“After you and Eddie left, things started to wind down. It was getting late, and the beer had run out, so I decided to escort Lisa out to the parking lot…”

“You’re sure you don’t want me to drive you home, Miles? You know it’s no problem,” said Lisa.

Miles stood for a moment, considering the offer, but then shook his head. He had plans for the evening. Namely, Chris Walker, who was still waiting back at the bar. Lisa seemed to get the hint and winked before taking her leave. Miles walked slowly, searching the jacket around his hips for his cigarettes and a lighter. Before long, Miles had a lit cigarette in his mouth.

It was a cold night, but Miles was fairly resistant to the chill. He leaned against the nearest wall and stared up toward the sky, partially visible through the open roof. There was a full moon that night. Miles was always partial to full moons.

Miles heard footsteps headed his way and turned. He recognized the newcomer. His name was John, and Miles had dated him, briefly, a couple of years prior. John had been very insistent on monopolizing all of Miles’ time, to the point where his attentions became suffocating and possessive. Miles had bad memories of that attempted relationship. He could not stop the automatic flinch just from seeing John, earning a sharp laugh.

“I see you haven’t lost your charm, Miles,” said John, giving a slimy grin. “What happened? I feel like I haven’t seen you in years…”

“You know, I’ve been trying to do different things, like not hang around the same idiots I used to associate with in the past.”

John’s laughter was immediate and biting. Miles had only wanted to enjoy a quiet night. Why couldn’t this jackass just leave him alone?

“Come on, Miles, we had some good nights together, don’t you remember?” asked John, closing the distance between himself and Miles with a couple of quick steps before reaching out and grabbing Miles by the hips. One of his hands began to slide dangerous low, rubbing Miles’ lower back. Miles attempted to push him away, causing John’s grip on his body to tighten significantly.

“Let go! You think I’m one of your whores?”

“Come on, don’t say things like that, you know you were always different to me…”

“That’s not what the woman on the phone claimed when I talked to her, after we stopped dating,” said Miles.

“Dalia and I were never anything official, plus, she couldn’t do for me what you did with those lips…” John leaned in closer and Miles did not hesitate to knee him in the groin. His cigarette slipped through his fingers, landing on John’s shirt and singing through the fabric to burn his chest.

John hissed in pain, momentarily off balance, before he came to his senses and pushed Miles violently against the wall. Miles let out a quiet grunt as he connected with the wall.

“So what, you think you’re tough now, is that it? I think you need to learn a little respect…”

“Let him go.”

John’s words were interrupted by a serious and strong voice. Both Miles and John watched as Chris Walker approached and stopped in front of them. One of his huge hands reached out and squeezed John’s shoulder.

“Let him go,” said Chris, repeating his warning. John finally released Miles’ shirt, causing him to rock back on his heels, stunned and staring.

“Why don’t you mind your own business? We were having a private discussion here…”

“Only thing I see is an older man threatening a younger guy, so I would appreciate it if you would cease your actions this very moment,” said Chris.

“And if I don’t?”

Chris’ hand on John’s arm pulled, gripping tightly as he pushed the man into the nearby wall. Miles watched in amazement, trying to process what was happening in front of his eyes. Chris was defending him?

“Now, I’ll repeat myself once more to be perfectly clear: leave Miles alone. If I find you bothering him again, I’m afraid I won’t be nearly as patient as I was this time. Understand?” asked Chris, his grip still vice-like where he held onto John’s arm.

A sound of complaint came from John, and Miles assumed Chris’ grip was even more painful than it looked. Miles wondered if that was something Chris had learned during his combat training in the army. Miles had always wanted to learn some self defense. He was a magnet for trouble, after all.

“Okay, okay! I promise, I’ll leave him alone, alright?”

Chris nodded, finally releasing John’s arm and walking to stand next to Miles. The pair began to walk together toward the parking lot, neither one speaking. Miles could not help feeling like he was being escorted by a security guard. The feeling was amplified by the serious expression on Chris’ face.

“Chris, I…”

“You’ve gotta be careful who you associate with,” said Chris, his voice authoritative and serious. Miles looked up at Chris’ face, unsure how to react. He was confused, though his heart was hammering in his chest from the intense look Chris was giving him. Concerned. Chris was worried.

“I’m sorry,”said Miles. “In the past, I was pretty stupid—even more than now, I mean. I always interacted with the wrong people…”

“You’ve got to take better care of yourself, Miles,” said Chris. “You shouldn’t let anyone treat you that way. You have to be careful.”

Miles felt like a damsel in distress, and Chris Walker was his brave, handsome prince that had come to his rescue. Miles’ face burned with embarrassment. He was thankful for the dim lighting of the parking lot which concealed most of the color. Chris watched him as he opened the door to his care and held it open. Miles looked up, confused.

“It’s my car,” said Chris, gesturing toward the vehicle. “I’ll take you home, so you don’t have to walk alone.”

Miles had thought things could not get any better than Chris Walker coming to his rescue. He was wrong. Riding in Chris Walker’s car was a whole new level for Miles. In total silence, Miles settled into the passenger seat while Chris closed the door before walking to the other side and getting into the driver’s seat. Without a word, Chris started the engine and began driving in the direction of Miles’ home.

The drive was slow; the road quiet. Chris’ face remained trained on the road—unreadable. Miles felt like a rebellious youth being driven home by his concerned father. The analogy made him smile slightly, attempting to dispel some of the seriousness in the atmosphere between them.

It was a short drive to Miles’ house. Chris parked on the road in front of the house next door. Miles looked up at Chris, nervously awaiting some additional chastisement, unsure how to carry on a conversation with his crush.

“Thanks for bringing me home tonight. Seriously, thank you,” said Miles, his voice low as he opened the door. A powerful hand on his shoulder stopped him, causing his heart to resume its thunderous beating. It was always the same reaction when Chris was close. The feel of his hand, even for just a friendly gesture, was unexpectedly exciting.

“Be careful, Miles,” said Chris, his eyes going soft. They were green—like a leaf, with all kinds of different tones blending together. Miles thought they very nice, especially when he was looking at Miles so softly.

Miles felt a natural impulse to throw himself into Chris’ arms and feel for himself those soft lips he watched smile so often. But his body refused to react. He barely managed to stroke Chris’ hand where it was resting on his shoulder, his eyes never breaking contact.

“I’ll be careful,” said Miles before leaving the car. There was a tightness in his chest as he closed the door, hating that their contact had to end. Wanting to beg him to stay.

Miles was in love—there was no doubt.

Waylon listened attentively to the entire story. His mouth was slightly open in astonishment at Miles’ statement. There was a flush on Miles’ face from remembering the moment. He could still feel the ghost of a hand on his shoulder, where Chris’ had been, creating a pleasant tingling on his skin.

“So, you didn’t kiss?” asked Waylon after a while, Miles looked up, his expression indignant.

“You think I didn’t want to! I did, but I was paralyzed. I couldn’t, I couldn’t…I could not do it. He’s so cute, Way, so perfect—why does he have to be so perfect? I would kiss him, and take his hand, and…”

“Suck his dick?”

Miles glared as Waylon gave a playful grin. Miles regained a pillow and aimed a series of attacks right at Waylon’s face finally attempting to “suffocate” him. The two quickly tired of the play fight and regained their composure.

“Seriously, though,” said Miles, slightly out of breath. “What should I do?”

“I don’t know, maybe you should do something outrageous like…ask him on a date?” Waylon’s eyes rose, awaiting the next series of doubts and negative reactions from

Miles. To his surprise, Miles was silent—thoughtful, even. He seemed to be considering the option. Perhaps there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel?

“I think you might be right…soon,” said Miles, nodding as he set his jaw. “Depending on how things go the next few weeks, maybe something good will happen…”

——

Waylon began preparing very early that day. For a person who rarely cared so much about his personal appearance, Waylon was always surprised at how much effort it took to look nice. His mother helped him find appropriate clothing that were more formal than he usually wore. He had a button-down shirt and a new pair of dark jeans from a department store. It wasn’t the most formal thing in the world, but Waylon felt like a total nerd. Especially when he saw himself in the full-length mirror in the bathroom.

Alma had been very interested in the mysterious dinner at Mrs. Gluskin’s house. They both wondered about Eddie’s mother. What kind of character and personality would she have, considering how formal and gentlemanly Eddie always behaved? It was almost as if he was plucked out of another era. Alma’s smile intensified when she saw her son come out wearing his new shirt and pants, despite his disapproving frown.

“You look like one of those guys that program computers,” said Alma, earning a glare from Waylon. Alma laughed at Waylon’s response. They both shared a distaste for formal situations.

“You’re not helping, mom…”

“Here, let me see,” said Alma, walking up to adjust Waylon’s collar, unable to keep the smile from her face. Even his unruly hair had been styled differently for the occasion.

“You must really like Eddie, to try to look so formal just to meet his mother…”

“I figured it’s the least I could do,” said Waylon, turning to look at himself in the mirror. “Eddie actually seemed worried.” Waylon expected his boyfriend at any moment. He hurried to put on his shoes that he had polished for the occasion, and walked to listen by the door. He had a feeling punctuality would be important that day.

“Do you know much about Mrs. Gluskin?” asked Alma.

“No idea,” said Waylon. “I picture a woman version of Eddie?” The idea of Eddie wearing a long wig and dress occurred to both of them, causing them to laugh out loud at the same time.

The two were so close and in sync it was common that they would think exactly alike. The doorbell rang, disrupting their moment, and causing both Waylon and Alma to stare at the door.

“I think it’s time, I hope everything goes well at dinner, Way-Way.”

“I hope so, too,” said Waylon, grabbing his jacket from the rack and walking out the door.

Eddie wore a dress shirt, black pants, and a matching vest. Waylon had thought his outfit was so formal, but suddenly he felt under-dressed. The worried look on Waylon’s face did not go unnoticed by Eddie.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“You look like you’re dress for a wedding, while I look like I’m going for a job interview at Microsoft,” said Waylon, crossing his arms over his chest. Eddie looked confused and it took him a few moments to realize the joke.

“Ridiculous, you know I always dress like this, and besides, you’re wrong, you look good in anything you wear.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to get into my pants,” said Waylon, causing Eddie’s eyebrows to shoot up his forehead. Waylon grinned at Eddie’s reaction, unable to hold his serious expression any longer.

“Really? You want me to look like some computer nerd?” asked Waylon.

“No, of course not, darling,” said Eddie, holding the door open for Waylon. The gentlemanly gesture earned him a flat stare from Waylon.

“Well, let’s get this over with,” said Waylon.

A few minutes passed silently in the car as they drove to a part of the city that was unfamiliar to Waylon. The houses were much larger than he usually saw. There were people walking casually down the road. A huge park with sidewalks and trees where people walked their pets and children played, skated, and biked.

The entire atmosphere had a sense of security Waylon had been missing. He had grown up in an environment like that for many years. He never regretted living with his mother—she was an exemplary woman. Still, there were many occasions when he missed the warmth and security of his previous home—especially in the roughest times, during his mother’s bankruptcy.

Eddie slowly reached for Waylon’s hand, smiling. If this was the area where Eddie had grown up, then Waylon knew that Mrs. Gluskin was a proper woman, devoted to her work at home and with her child. It was strange how two people that grew up in such different environments could fit together so well.

Waylon hoped their differences would not negatively affect the crucial visit. Waylon understood the situation. He had heard from Eddie exactly how important his mother was to him, enough that there would be bad repercussions if Eddie’s mother rejected their relationship.

Nervousness had arrived the moment Waylon had learned of the dinner plans, and it only intensified as they drove closer. Waylon clenched his fingers around Eddie’s hand, looking at Eddie out of the corner of his eye, but turning away before Eddie could notice.

“Waylon, are you okay?” asked Eddie, the concern in his voice saying he had noticed. He pulled into the parking lot near the park before leaning in to meet Waylon’s lips in one slow, smooth motion. Waylon instinctively closed his eyes and sighed against Eddie’s lips.

“I’m afraid your mother won’t accept me. I’m not…the ideal vision she would want you to date, probably. What if she thinks I’m too young, or too irresponsible? I know that I am, but, what if she realizes you’re dating a trashy guy like me…”

“You know what I think she’ll say?” asked Eddie, leaving a couple of kisses on Waylon’s face in a soft, loving way. “She’ll say that you are unique, and cute. The things that make you different from others, make you special. I’m sure she’ll notice how wonderful you are in the same way that I notice every day we spend together. Don’t be afraid to be yourself. You’re fine just the way you are.” Eddie’s face remained close to Waylon’s, and Waylon found himself paralyzed by the look in those blue eyes.

Waylon pulled Eddie in for another kiss, attempting to press their bodies even closer together. The kiss felt different—special. It was as if Eddie could gather all of his insecurity that pained him every day, and make it disappear in an instant. The way he could make Waylon feel like the only person in the world.

 

Eddie pulled away from the park and continued to drive, but their hands never parted. A huge white house with blue shutters soon appeared. There was a garden with many flowers and ornaments scattered throughout. They parked and Eddie held Waylon’s hand the entire time, leading him gently toward the house.

There was a nice, warm atmosphere emanating from the place. Waylon clenched Eddie’s hand. I was irrational to feel nervous. It was only Eddie’s mother, not some frightening criminal.

Eddie raised his hand to knock on the door, but it opened before he got the chance. A short woman with blue eyes and short black hair greeted them, curiosity and surprise on her expression. She wore a sky-blue dress that buttoned up the front and a white apron with floral pattern embroidered around the hem. Despite being short, her hair was perfectly styled and slightly wavy at the ends. A pearl necklace around her neck completed the ensemble. Waylon thought she was beautiful and elegant.  Waylon felt like he had taken a time machine back in time to the fifties at the sight of the woman as well as the house because both seemed pulled right out of an old television show.

The house, or at least what was visible from the front door, was decorated carefully with lace curtains and a shelf with photographs and ceramic figurines carefully displayed. The interior even smelled like freshly baked cookies. Waylon tried to put on his best smile, but he was so nervous. He knew it probably looked fake. Thankfully, Eddie spoke first.

“Hi Mom, allow me to introduce to you someone very special to me,” said Eddie, speaking with utmost confidence as he stroked Waylon’s hand with his thumb while still holding it. Eddie turned to smile at Waylon and his expression was warm and sincere, showing nothing but pride in his boyfriend.

“His name is Waylon Park, and we have been seeing one another for over a month now, and recently became an official couple. I regret not having brought him to meet you sooner, but I wanted it to be the right time for such a special occasion. Waylon, may I introduce you to my mother…”

“Very nice to meet you, Ma’am,” said Waylon, his voice coming out thick and clumsy.

Waylon mentally berated himself for acting so awkward. He felt like an idiot as he extended a hand toward the woman who was still looking at him with an inquisitive gaze as though analyzing his every word and movement. Waylon’s surprise was complete when he felt an arm pull him into a warm embrace. He was taken completely unawares and could only blink in confusion.

“Oh, Edward! Why did you take so long to bring him? He’s absolutely adorable!” said Eddie’s mother. She shook Waylon back in forth in her arms and he was amazed how much motherly warmth poured through the simple gesture.

“You know I tend to be a little more reserved with this type of thing, and I was already planning the right time to have dinner and discuss the issue. Who was it, by the way, that commented on my relationship?”

“Oh, Edward, you know that’s not important! Now, get inside, go! Dinner is ready, and some fresh baked cookies for dessert. I hope you like chocolate chips, Waylon? You don’t have any strange allergies like Edward, do you?”

The voice of Mrs. Gluskin was particularly animated. Waylon found it adorable the way she called Eddie by his formal name. Her fondness for her son was easily apparent, and her happiness was contagious. There were enough keepsakes and pictures placed around the house that Waylon began to form a picture of Eddie’s life growing up.

There were photographs from important moments such as graduation, his first day of school, Eddie learning to ride a bike, and even a candid photo of Eddie hugging a dog. Waylon could not help but stare at that picture the longest. Eddie’s smile was precious. Apparently, Eddie had always been taller than average, since all the photographs with classmates showed he towered above others his age.

On the kitchen table there were three porcelain plates that looked very expensive. In the center of the table, a vase of yellow flowers gave the kitchen a very homey feeling. Waylon sat down at the table, after his offer to assist in the kitchen was shot down several times. Eddie insisted that he was a guest, and it was his duty to sit and wait while Eddie helped his mother with serving the food.

The meal was delicious, although Waylon was not sure exactly what they were eating. He only knew it had meat and vegetables.

“What do you do, Waylon?” asked Mrs. Gluskin as she served another spoonful of vegetables. Waylon’s eyes widened in surprise, glancing at Eddie. He should not have anything to hide, right?

“I’m a cashier at the grocery store near my home,” said Waylon, “I’ve worked there for a couple of years now.”

“Are you currently taking classes?” asked Mrs. Gluskin, smiling politely. “You look very young, I thought you might be studying for college.”

“I’m not going to school right now, Mrs. Gluskin,” said Waylon, looking back down at his place with a serious expression. Great, thought Waylon. Perhaps he had been too honest about his current situation.

“Don’t call me Mrs. Gluskin, it makes me feel old. Helena, if you please. No need to be so formal. You’re my son’s partner after all. And very cute, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

The last part was unexpected.

The entire situation was unexpected. Helena did not seem to judge Waylon’s life situation at all. Waylon had worried he would be judged for lack of direction in life. Instead, he found himself enjoying a dinner with his boyfriend’s mother and being constantly flattered.

“I still remember when Edward left school, long ago,” said Helena. “I always thought he would decide to go to college, but his talent for sewing developed so wonderfully over time. You see, I was his first teacher, but I can say with certainty that he surpassed my skills years ago. I have seen many of his dresses—they are wonderful. So unique. I’m not someone who thinks a college degree is necessary to define a person’s future. Life's a journey, after all. We’re all just trying to find our way.”

Helena smiled as she offered Waylon an extra portion of meat. He smiled back, feeling more at ease. Eddie was particularly quiet, but it as not really an awkward silence. He played the part of silent spectator to the interaction between Waylon and his mother, delighted that the two could get along so well.

Eddie rested his hand on top of Waylon’s where it rested on the table, an affectionate smile lighting up his handsome face. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Helena.

“You two make an adorable couple. In the past, Eddie would avoid bringing his partners home to meet me. I was surprised last week when Antonio came to visit me, and…”

“Ah, then it was Frank?” said Eddie, muttering to himself. “That man does not know how to keep a secret…”

“Secret? No, it was only a confirmation, Edward. I saw you two, together, a couple of weeks ago when I visited the park. You seemed quite comfortable together. Frank merely confirmed what I had seen. You know he’s always quick to invite himself over for dinner. It’s almost like he’s my adopted son, anyways…”

“Please, don’t even joke about that…” said Eddie.

After dinner, Helena went into the kitchen to serve the cookies with homemade vanilla ice cream, leaving the two alone. Her plan was likely to give them some privacy. Waylon’s eyes met Eddie’s and the gaze he returned was full of pride. Eddie raised up one of Waylon’s hands from the table and kissed the back. It was a romantic gesture, even if somewhat embarrassing.

“Now I know where you got your natural charm, Edward…”

“What can I say? I’m the spitting image of my mother. I have a lot of her personality, as well.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” said Waylon. “If she has the ability to accept someone like Frank Manera, she must be a woman of infinite patience.”

“Actually, our temperaments are much the same in that respect,” said Eddie. “Her scoldings were legendary. Frank has respect for her still because of those days. He’s obviously very close with my mother, he practically lived here with us, after all.”

Waylon nodded before leaning in to kiss Eddie’s lips. Helena appeared a few minutes later with a couple plates of cookies and ice cream drizzled with melted chocolate. The time passed slowly as the two chatted away. Eddie was completely at ease, enjoying having his boyfriend and mother getting along.

Waylon found Helena to be a very kind person, in every way. Waylon had told her about many things in his life, his travels with Miles, his mother, his vegetarian ideals and, of course, the time he had spent with Eddie. Waylon could not resist reciprocating every kind gesture and genuine smile from such a warm, motherly figure.

It was strange, he thought, that Helena could accept all of his personality traits that others might consider disrespectful. Again, the image of Frank dining or having tea with Helena popped into his mind. Waylon could not make sense of such a contrasting image.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Waylon,” said Helena. “I hope you can come to dinner again, soon. I’ll make sure that Eddie brings you to visit more often from now on.”

She proceeded to give Waylon his first goodbye hug. It took forever to say goodbye, considering the amount of anecdotes and comments from Helena. Eddie said goodbye to his mother with a kiss on the cheek, promising that he would bring Waylon at every opportunity that presented itself.

Eddie and Waylon held hands as they walked to the car, and Waylon giggled when Eddie opened his door. Waylon made sure to steal a quick kiss before sliding into the car.

“See? I told you she would adore you. Who could resist?” Eddie smiled before proceeding to drive them home. The evening had been a success for both of them, and it spoke of many good things in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a marathon today! It was one of those times when you sit down and say “I won’t get up until I’m finished” and this chapter is the result!
> 
> Why was Chris so protective of Miles? Something is definitely happening between these two.
> 
> Mrs. Gluskin is great! Can you imagine Frank taking tea with her in the evenings? LOL


End file.
